Hummingbirds and Hornets
by The Rish
Summary: Mashiro's odd request turns Kensei's world on its head. Where do they go from here? Rated for language and strong sexual themes.
1. Can't Get My Head Around You

A/N: So, this started when a friend was telling me about an episode of "How I Met Your Mother," and he thought it was hot when one of the characters said, "Put a baby in my tummy," or something like that. The idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I started writing... but then plot got in the way. So, this is really not the oneshot I had in mind, but I'm publishing it anyway. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer, now in Haiku form:**

_O Great Kubo-san  
__It is all thine and not mine*  
__I gain no profit_

*Except the haiku. I _do_ get credit for that.  
Oh, and anything not recognizable as Bleach canon.

* * *

She was many things to him. Over the years, she had been his lieutenant, his friend, a pain in his ass, and on the rare occasion that his mischievous streak flared, his partner-in-crime. Through it all, they stood side by side with a silent understanding that they'd always be there, supporting each other, even before the very gates of Hell, if it came to that.

They minced no words between them. He always got to the point, and although she would whine and bemoan her lot, they never said anything more than necessary. He didn't talk about feelings, and she wouldn't bother listening if he did. Both were forged in battle; they spoke through their actions, which often could speak volumes more than any words – particularly anything she ever had to say.

And right now, her inane drivel was spewing forth. He'd openly admit that he wasn't paying any attention – hell, Hachi was the only one who paid any attention at all to the things she said, and even he seemed distracted now.

Kensei was drawn out of actively ignoring Mashiro's incessant blabbing by the total silence that fell over the room. Hachi and Love were both staring at him; Rose only smirked as he continued to study his manga intently.

"What?" Kensei demanded, more of Hachi and Love than anyone else. He folded his arms over his chest defiantly.

Mashiro answered Kensei, unfazed entirely by what was going on around her. "I said, I want to have a baby, Kensei."

Love cleared his throat as he turned back to his meal. Rose remained intensely fascinated with the same page in his manga, and Hachi was suddenly interested in something on the other side of the warehouse.

Kensei's brain sputtered as he tried to think of a response. Really, what could he say to that? At a complete loss about how he should answer, his aggressive defense system kicked in. "What the hell are you talking about, woman?" There, she'd repeat herself, he'd shrug it off, and they could pretend like she'd never said something so asinine.

Her face scrunched up into a pout, capturing a look that portended an utter shit storm for Kensei. He watched in horror as her bottom lip began quivering. _Oh fuck_, here it comes. He automatically recoiled as she threw herself on the floor, waiting for the kicking and screaming to begin. When it didn't come, he peered over his forearm, still hesitant to get any closer to the ticking time bomb that was Mashiro.

She was lying there, staring up at the high ceiling of the warehouse, chewing on her bottom lip. Bringing her arm up to shield her eyes, she sighed. "I mean it, Kensei. I want a baby."

Rose dropped his manga onto the table and looked to Love. They'd never seen Mashiro so serious about anything. Sure, she had a particular tenacity about her that made her protest adamantly for whatever reason she might have at a given moment, but her lightheartedness and bubbly personality rarely lent itself to a serious cause. Feeling an unwelcome tension in the room, they decided in one glance that they should make themselves scarce.

Just then, the warehouse door rolled up. "Anyone miss us?" Shinji singsonged as he strolled in with Hiyori in tow. They toted in several bags from a convenience store with food for the next few meals, and Shinji pulled the door down behind him. Mashiro bolted in their direction, squealing happily as she took some bags and began rifling through them.

Love and Rose, whom had paused mid-rise when Shinji and Hiyori entered, sighed audibly and resumed sitting, shooting another meaningful glance across the table before returning to their previous endeavors. With Shinji and Hiyori bickering as usual, the tension in the room returned to a comfortable low, but Kensei, realizing he'd dodged a bullet, decided he'd make a tactical retreat to the underground.

Below deck, he found Lisa reclining against a boulder and reading what he could assume, and correctly, was a porn magazine. He settled down on the opposite side, reclining his head with such immediacy and speed that Lisa could swear he'd cracked his skull open. Without looking up from her magazine, she droned, "What happened?"

He only grunted in response. She knew that tone.

"Your reiatsu is insanely wild. What'd she throw a fit over this time?" Lisa flipped the page, not really expecting a response. She knew Kensei wasn't the type to talk about things, and Mashiro's tizzies were barely conversation material, but she figured she'd ask, anyway. Why the hell not? This magazine was boring.

Kensei's frazzled mind tried to make sense of what had just happened. He tried to find the words, and then he tried to vocalize those words coherently. Honestly, he didn't believe what he was about to say.

"Mashiro . . . says she wants a baby."

Lisa shrugged. "What's new? Last month she wanted a dog, and the month before that it was something else. She's probably been reading josei manga again. That stuff's dangerous."

Kensei sighed. "I know, but she was so . . . _serious_. She didn't kick and scream or call me names when I asked her what the hell she was talking about."

He heard Lisa close her magazine. Soon after, Lisa's head appeared around the side of the boulder. "She _what?_"

He nodded. "In front of Love, Rose, and Hachi, she declared that she wanted to have a baby. Just like that."

Lisa shifted so she could sit facing him, this conversation growing more interesting by the second. "And she said this to you?" She studied his face as his brows knitted and his grimace grew into a deep scowl.

"Yeah, what about it? She has normal conversations with the rest of you. I'm the only one who gets the idiotic stuff." He scratched his arm, quickly becoming uncomfortable in his own skin.

Chuckling, Lisa's eyes smiled at him over her glasses. "You don't get it, do you? She was _asking _you."

Watching Kensei's body was like watching someone go through the first four stages of grief within the span of mere seconds. Denial, anger, pain, and reflection – over what had been and what could be. Everyone else in the group knew that those two were made for one another, mainly because there was no other person who could tolerate either of them in all of Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, or the Living World, ever. But presently, Lisa was enjoying having a laugh at his expense far too much to dwell on the deeper aspects of Kensei's relationship – whatever it might be – with Mashiro.

Jumping to his feet, Kensei started for the stairs.

"So, you gonna do it, _Daddy Kensei_?" Lisa howled as he flipped her off. "Can I watch?"

Lisa's laughter followed his ascent into the warehouse, earning him a few curious gazes as he stormed through the warehouse and out the rolling door.

Shinji looked to Love, who was now enjoying some tea. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know," Rose answered, "Mashiro, do you know what's up?"

She looked as oblivious as ever, as Love choked on his tea.


	2. Remedy

A/N: I was right, just one person was all it took for publishing this to be worth it. Thanks to the 2 anons who reviewed, and to Lone Sparrow - Ishida Uryu for the alert! As a thanks, here's the next chapter, six days earlier than planned. Look for the next chapter on Friday. :D

I like the idea of elaborate living arrangements and assorted pasts for the Vizard between TBTP and the present, but I wasn't thinking that deeply when I started this. Oh well. As such, they all presently live in the warehouse, and this makes for many deliciously awkward moments. Also, I like creating backstories for characters that we know little about. So, um, oops? You'll see what I mean, especially later.

* * *

One black boot after another pounded against the sidewalk, each action so powerful with the anger at his confusion that Kensei was sure the concrete was crumbling beneath his feet. Normally, he would never take anything Mashiro said at face value. She was always spouting off things that she _wanted_ or _needed_, but there was something about the sincere look on her face, her unnaturally calm demeanor . . . the way she placed her hands on his knee and looked at him with unabashed honesty. The way she seemed modestly excited yet had the grace to appear shy once she had twice-repeated her request. Yet, when Shinji and Hiyori appeared, she began bouncing around giddily, like the clipped conversation had never taken place.

Her uncharacteristic behavior had him torn up.

If she'd never said anything like this, he might have gone on until the end of his existence, with her by his side, and never have wanted anything more. He could deny, to everyone but himself, that he'd long wanted more from Mashiro. – His long-ago-subjugated inner Hollow's carnal desires aside, Kensei fleetingly thought, on rare occasions, of what it would be like to share their lives together in a much deeper, warmer, _marital_ way. As one who was born in Rukongai, brought up in a nurturing family environment, he often longed to recapture that feeling of stability and normalcy. Maybe it was because of their comradery and friendship, or perhaps despite it, but Kensei couldn't imagine wanting that domestic bliss with anyone but Mashiro.

It was because of the impossibility of the scenario that Kensei stopped allowing himself such delusions years ago.

Kensei slammed his fist into the steel wall of a building, the racket being answered by a nearby dog. Head resting on his forearm as he leaned against the building, he stared holes into the toe of his boot, hoping he could find the answer there.

Maybe she'd forget all this nonsense. He could only hope.

* * *

"I guess you're right, Hachi. It is pretty selfish of me."

"Well, it's not selfish of you, exactly. I just don't think you approached the subject in the right manner. Have you two talked about it any more?" Hachi felt awkward playing matchmaker, but he was happy to listen to Mashiro when she was being reasonable – rare as it was. The slight girl had become quite endearing to him over the years, much like his own daughter, and he had to take the bad Mashiro with the good Mashiro, just like a father would.

Mashiro's brows knitted. "N-no, he didn't come back last night. Kensei must be pretty upset with me." She began subconsciously wringing her hands in her lap.

Hachi sighed. "Yes, of course. Don't suppose you had the chance," he mumbled before continuing. "I cannot say that I blame him. You were serious and broaching a serious topic. Not only did you take him by surprise, but you were also in the company of others. I can imagine he felt even more awkward than the rest of us did."

Mashiro's eyes began to glaze over with unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Hachi. I didn't mean . . . "

Patting her head thoughtfully, "It's okay." He laughed warmly. "No harm done to us, but you should probably talk to him, when he's in a better mood."

"Kensei . . . he doesn't like talking about _things_ . . . "

Hachi had prepared a response but was cut off by the warehouse door rattling open noisily. The early-morning sun cast heavy shadows over the figure standing in the doorway, but if his reiatsu wasn't a dead giveaway, his silhouetted figure was also unmistakable. Hachi cast a knowing glance at Mashiro as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, before he rose and started a beeline toward the food stores.

"Good morning, Kensei. Would you like something to eat?"

As Kensei closed the door, he regarded Hachi with a tired smile and weary voice. "No, thanks. 'Preciate it, though."

He shuffled across the floor and leapt up a level to where his futon awaited. Almost too tired to walk, he also had a feeling he'd be too tired to sleep. Or too distracted. Mashiro was down there, crying. He'd seen the glitter of tears in her eyes. Part of him wanted to go back down there and yell at her for being an idiot and crying. That would make him feel better, but it wouldn't help the situation. The fact that she was crying meant she hadn't forgot it, like he'd hoped she would. She was shedding real tears, not that fake crap. For once, she might be asking him for something he couldn't give her. That thought alone pissed him off more than anything.

After a half hour had passed in relative silence, Hachi returned with tea and passed a cup to Mashiro. She hummed in gratitude, and the pair sat together, quietly regarding one another, each vaguely wondering when the rest of their motley crew would come up from the underground training room to join them. Once another few moments had passed, Hachi roused from his deep thought and, deeming it safe to speak freely again, poised a question on his lips.

"Mashiro, may I make another suggestion?"

She nodded her consent and listened carefully.

"Kensei is a man of action. He understands actions better than words. In your own ways, you show your love for him quite openly, and he in return shows his love for you. If you want to make yourself clear, perhaps you should send a clearer message that he cannot mistake." He looked at her, hoping she was not drawing the wrong conclusions. "Redefining the boundaries will require understanding on your part, and his."

Mashiro nodded, absorbing Hachi's words of advice. She wasn't nearly as dumb as others thought. Ditsy and immature at times, yes, but she really deserved more credit. Hachi was usually the only one who would give her that much recognition. The others did in their own way, from time to time, but she couldn't change who she was and how others perceived her.

Except, maybe she could change how Kensei perceived her. Was she just a nuisance he'd learned to tolerate, or did he really love her, as Hachi said? Well, it didn't matter, if he was always by her side. That's all she truly cared about. Nevertheless, she liked the sound of _sending a clearer message_ and _redefining the boundaries_.

"Thanks, Hachi," she said at long last. "I think I understand."

Up above them, as he lay in his increasingly uncomfortable futon, Kensei's face burned a deep crimson.

* * *

As Kensei's mind slowly gained awareness, he had the distinct sensation of someone staring at him, burning squarely on his forehead. One eye cracked open, slowly followed by the other, and an intense hazel gaze captured his hazy awareness.

"Kensei, you meanie! You stayed out all night, knowing I would worry about you," Mashiro screeched. Awake less than thirty seconds, and already he was being affronted. Eyebrow-twitch-mode activated. Perma-scowl set in place. He opened his mouth to retort, but the words wouldn't come. His scowl deepened instead, if it were even possible, and he rolled over suddenly, turning away from the offending woman. He was just too tired to deal with her.

"You're such a meanie, Kensei! I was so worried, and you can't even apologize to me!" Mashiro continued wailing, although Kensei had now firmly set his pillow over his head. It was a vain attempt to drown out the noise, but the attempt made him feel saner.

He was surprised when her wailing ebbed into giggles. "Silly Kensei," he heard her say offhandedly as she rose from her kneeling position beside him. She was several paces away when he yanked the pillow off his head and jerked around to look at her.

"Are you _trying_ to kill me, woman?" It was all he could do to keep his voice below a roar.

Giggling, she looked over her shoulder at him. "Of course not! If you died, who would I tease?" With a cheeky smile and a flash of tongue, she bounced off and prepared to jump down to the ground level. His pillow just missed hitting her head.

_Dammit,_ now he'd have to go get it.

No sooner than he had this thought was his pillow volleyed back to him from the ground level. "I _love_ silly meanie Kensei!" More giggling.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard that declaration, but it just didn't carry the same weight as it would if she left out the irritating descriptors. Mentally sighing, Kensei reached for his pillow. Not that he'd be getting any more sleep until later, though.

Returning his pillow to its original spot, he gave it little more thought as he looked up at the light beaming in through the high windows. Judging by the brightness, he'd only slept until sometime in the afternoon. Heaving himself to his feet, he marked absently in his mind that Mashiro was of an entirely different disposition than she had been earlier. That thought comforted him, but he had to silence the echoes in his head, recalling the conversation he'd overheard. He'd give anything that he hadn't heard it, and even more to have heard what they said before he arrived. Knowing the resolution without knowing the problem rubbed him the wrong way.

So much so that when Mashiro maintained an all-time annoyance-high for days on end, he bitterly noticed that he'd expected something to change between them.


	3. Pretending

A/N: Shout outs go to BLeach Rulez, piper, Sonnie, equitablyinjust, and I Killed Tony The Tiger. Thanks, everyone!

It's a known fact that I hate flat characters. And let's be honest, some of the Vizard are pretty flat. I hope I'm managing to flesh them out realistically (or at the very least, plausibly). I really got too wrapped up in the psychology of this, I think, and in a poor and uninformed way. Maybe I understand enough of the human condition, maybe not. Anyway, I'm rambling. Above this and below. All of it, rambling. Enjoy the rambling. :D (I'm an unapologetic idiot sometimes.) Also, this chapter is accidentally rife with cliches. I _am_ apologetic for that and may fix it later.

I spent a few days breaking down the manuscript, and I came up with 20 chapters total. Hopefully, this will buy me enough time to continue the story to bring more chapters to you guys with little interruption. Remember, a new chapter every Friday!

* * *

If Mashiro were honest with herself, she didn't know why she'd made that stupid outburst in the first place.

She'd spent the last hundred years in abject misery, despite her efforts to maintain an impenetrable bubbly persona. Always carefree and outgoing when in Soul Society, she felt obligated to maintain her cheery outlook for the sake of her friends. Sometimes she genuinely felt that the very survival of this group depended upon her proving that nothing had really changed. That was, of course, a lie bigger than any other told in history, but that carefully crafted lie seemed to bring a small amount of comfort to everyone. Even after adapting to the new life they shared, the pretense seemed necessary. She had to continue being bubbly and ditsy Mashiro.

The darker side of her emotions did occasionally shine through, and she knew that despite her efforts to remain as she had, she had undoubtedly calmed and matured over the passage of time. She should expect nothing less, she supposed, but slowly she was losing that tightly-clutched grip around her false happiness.

She'd tried to fill the void she felt growing within her with that false happiness and with material possessions – what few she had, and she tried to lull herself into a false sense of security.

Upon examining the heart of the matter, Mashiro realized the lie she lived, for the sake of others and for self-preservation. She began to understand that she wanted more from life. She'd spent all this time trying to make the best of a worst-possible-case situation, but in doing so, she'd created her own living Hell. And she desperately wanted out of that Hell, wanted to reach out for someone to take her hand, for someone to return to her the happiness she'd tried so hard to inspire in everyone else.

While she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that she wanted that person to be Kensei. Captain, comrade, friend. Kensei. Of everyone she'd ever known – the other Vizards included – he was the only who stood by her through everything. She owed him largely for her success in maintaining the lie of happiness and sameness. Stiff and predictable Kensei was unwittingly her cannon fodder time and again, their shared dynamic lending itself to fuel her outrageous behavior.

Taking the time to think back, she could recall when she started falling in love with him. She'd demonstrated her combat skills and openly impressed him. He started taking her seriously after that. They always bickered, from day one – but she could be serious at times, and he could cut loose and have fun at times. The first time she heard him laugh – yes, that was when her heartstrings were plucked. His eyes shone with mirth, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as he outright chuckled. She'd give just about anything to hear that laugh again.

She'd been able to set aside those feelings for her loyalty to the division, and by proxy her Captain, and after their forced exodus, she'd been able to further stifle those feelings to do what she thought was preserving her sanity. But enough was enough; Mashiro felt it was time to be selfish and take something back for herself.

Ah, the heart of the matter, indeed. That's why she'd made that outburst, that outright declaration that she wanted a child, implied that she wanted to have Kensei's child, implied she wanted everything that came with the territory. Truthfully, she did. Kensei, and all he could offer, was what was missing from that void. The missing piece of her soul, so close, yet so far away.

It was a silly notion, to have a child. What had she been thinking? Clearly she hadn't, and that was the problem.

Yet she wanted this more than anything. She wanted Kensei's love, declared openly, even if only through unmistakable actions. She craved that commitment.

Perhaps she was being presumptuous, but even Hachi believed that Kensei loved her. Well, she knew he loved her, but was it enough?

* * *

Walking along the sunny streets of Karakura Town, Kensei absorbed the familiarity and normalness of the scene. Believing that it had been nearly a year since Aizen's defeat was hard. Now that they'd eliminated him, Kensei often wondered what reason he had to continue living here. Well, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he looked down at the green-haired girl walking beside him. She was happily humming some tune he'd never heard, probably something she made up on the spot. If she said she wanted to leave Karakura Town, he wouldn't ask any questions save for where she wanted to go. And he'd take her there. Anywhere. Anything she wanted . . .

As his mind wandered, he didn't notice that Mashiro had stopped humming and was standing in front of a store window, studying the wares inside. He was already half a block away from her when her voice reached him. "Hey Kensei, I'm going in here for a minute . . . "

He whipped around, only to catch a glimpse of her orange heel disappearing through the store's entrance. Jogging to catch up, he stopped in front of the door, only to notice what the store was. Recoiling in horror, he took a moment to breathe, trying to gather his courage just to storm in there and pull her out. What had gotten into her lately?

A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead as he reached for the door handle agonizingly slowly. His entire body shook with the mental strain. As his hand touched the handle, it recoiled of its own volition, as though it burned him. Huffing in exasperation, he set his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. It shouldn't be this difficult. With a new resolution and rigid shoulders, he was inside the store before he could even recall opening the door.

He easily spotted Mashiro on the far side of the store, where she was standing at a counter and talking with a salesperson. Putting on mental blinders so he wouldn't think about where he was, he walked directly to her, stopping just behind her. Placing a firm grip on her elbow, he leaned down to her ear and very clearly but quietly said, "The others are waiting."

The salesperson beamed at him with a sort of recognition that made him more than self-conscious and generally uncomfortable. Mashiro simply nodded in acknowledgment as she slipped her glove back on and thanked the salesperson. Leading her out of the store gently by her elbow, Kensei tried to block from his mind what he'd just seen.

In the bright sunlight again, Kensei looked up, hoping the blinding light would burn the image from his retinas._ I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to ask, I'm not going to –_

"What were you doing in there?" Fuck.

Mashiro shrugged. "Just felt like it." No way was she going to elaborate. The last thing she wanted was to piss Kensei off even more.

Groaning, Kensei's speed increased and Mashiro, whose elbow was still his captive, was forced to run to keep up with his longer strides. He was going to start keeping her on a leash, but for now, holding on to her arm and forcing her pace so she didn't have time to look around would have to suffice.

When they returned to the warehouse with food, Kensei mumbled an apology for taking so long. Lisa shrugged it off. "Didn't really think you were gone that long." Everyone else seemed to agree. Mashiro glared at Kensei before whining.

"See, Kensei? We could have stayed longer!" She was pouting now. Kensei looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. Thankfully, no one remarked on Mashiro's outburst.

"Fine, Mashiro. Go back, if you wanna. Just eat something first, so you don't pass out on the street like an idiot." Kensei threw a rice ball at her head, which she caught easily before it collided with her face.

"Fine," she groused as she began unwrapping the rice. "I will." With that, she slunk out of the warehouse, rice ball in hand.

Once she had exited, Shinji looked up from his bento. "Lovers' quarrel?" He giggled as Kensei barked a 'shaddup' at him. "So, where's she headed to?"

Kensei concentrated solely on his ramen. "Dunno," he lied.

Rose chose this moment to chime in. "You're such a bad liar, Kensei." This earned him a glare but nothing more. A tense silence fell over the room as everyone ate, Kensei being responsible for both the tension and the silence.

At long last, Lisa decided to kill the tension. Nonchalantly flipping a page in her magazine as she picked through her rice with errant chopsticks, she couldn't stop herself from mumbling, "She's probably looking at baby cribs."

Lisa smirked in satisfaction as she could practically hear Kensei's reiatsu crackling in rage. Love and Rose barely managed to keep the food in their mouths (and Love wished everyone would stop doing this to him – _at least give some warning before saying something like that!_), as Hachi quietly observed the situation. Hiyori started in, wanting to know what was so funny, which divided Shinji's attention between calming her down and focusing on Kensei's ire toward Lisa. He'd obviously missed something somewhere.

Satisfied that she'd broken down the tension and turned the situation around for everyone, Lisa gave Kensei a look, undecipherable to any other than him, and she retreated to the underground. She wasn't disappointed when he joined her moments later.

"I really hate you sometimes, yanno," he said as he cracked his neck.

"Feeling's mutual," she smirked as she drew her zanpakuto. "Shall we?"

"Gladly," he returned as he flicked Tachikaze into view.


	4. I Will Not Bow

A/N: Shout outs go to piper, equitablyinjust, Sonnie, BLeach Rulez, mets986, Yahtzey, blah62, WickedWhispers9, silvermonkeyhunter, and Ayase Reincarnated. *heart* My dearest piper, admirable effort on your part to get a bonus chapter last week! Sadly, I could not deliver. Chapter 3 was a few hours early b/c I discovered I wouldn't have a chance to post it on Friday proper. :c

Sorry if these chapters start suddenly or end awkwardly. 30k+ words were already prepared, and I tried to break it all down into chapters that were between 1k and 2k words, and unfortunately, not always at the best places. So, my sincerest apologies for failing at flow.

I see Kensei and Lisa as having a love/hate, rivalry-type friendship. Writing interactions between them is fun.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hachi was blissfully ignoring the gossip as Love and Rose filled Shinji in.

"Is that so?" Shinji said, taking in the information. It appeared that it took him a few moments to decided how to feel, but his face lit up with a brilliant smile. "Our little girl is growing up! Oh, how sweet, our family will grow even more!" Clapping his hands together in front of him, he looked to Hiyori. "Well,_ one _of our little girls is growing up." Risking his life further, he ruffled Hiyori's blonde pigtails and cooed, "Don't worry, squirt. Your time will come."

He managed to dash from the table just in time to escape Hiyori's death grip, but her sandal did successfully meet with the back of his head. "You dumbass! Get back here, Shinji! Ya baldy! Come and face me like a real man!"

"No way! You're scary!" Shinji continued to give chase around the warehouse, and just then, Mashiro rolled the door up and slipped in.

Giving everyone a smile and wave, she leapt up a level, hoping no one would pay her any mind. Treading lightly over to Kensei's futon and small collection of personal belongings, she knelt down and recovered her package from its clever hiding place of her glove. She placed the small box on Kensei's pillow, knowing he wouldn't find it until much later. He'd surprised her with a new scarf after she ripped her last one in battle, and she'd spent all this time trying to think of a kind return gesture.

Well, she'd actually been curious about that new trend adopted from Western weddings – something about couples wearing rings – but on her return trip to the jewelry store, these had caught her eye. Smiling to herself, she stood and examined the presentation one last time before rejoining her friends below.

* * *

Panting heavily, Kensei was doubled over, supporting his over exerted body with a shaky arm as he fought from leaning his weight into the boulder. Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes, forming little clumps of mud in the dirt below. Lisa was in no better shape, gasping for precious oxygen as she reclined against a boulder several yards away. They'd given the sparring match their all, allowing them to briefly revel in their continued rivalry and allowing Kensei to briefly forget his woes. If he'd taken time to consider it, he might claim that Lisa was his best friend. She had a way of easing his mind and silencing his troubles that no one else ever had; yes, she was a friend in a way Mashiro could never be, but that infuriating woman held his heart in her iron grasp. She had his love, whether she deserved it or even knew she had it.

Lisa made a sound that garnered Kensei's attention. It was something between a sigh and a groan, like she had tried to speak, but the words failed to fight their way past her erratic breathing. After another moment, her breathing slowed but was no less erratic, and she tried again.

"So . . . what . . . what did she . . . " Lisa found herself repeating words between pants, her vocal chords failing her and forcing the words to come out as incomprehensible rushes of breath.

Kensei laughed bitterly, choking on the sound. "She was in a. . . . _goddamned_. . . jewelry . . . store," he forced out between gasps. His knees finally gave, his will losing the battle against his body to continue standing. Crumpling unceremoniously to the ground, Kensei struggled to negotiate his burning body into a more comfortable position.

Lisa's laugh finally came, a raspy coughing sound lacing the lilting intervals between gasps. "_What._" The syllable was sardonic with no hint of question in her voice. The raspy laugh continued until it dissolved into a hacking cough. Kensei waited for the coughing fit to subside before answering, allowing time to catch his breath.

Before he could respond, Lisa managed to choke out another comment. "You give her everything she wants, anyway."

That wasn't entirely true, Kensei bitterly reminded himself. Sure, he begrudgingly indulged his green-haired former lieutenant, giving her all the material possessions she asked of him, gave his attention when she begged it, gave her praise when she earned it. Yet the one thing he suspected – no,_ knew_– she wanted, he'd selfishly withheld from her since time immemorial.

Lisa's tone had been so nonchalant, so matter-of-fact, that he could practically hear the shrug in her voice. Was he that damn transparent to everyone?

As though she read his mind, Lisa tugged one of her sleeves. "You. Here. You're not as much of an enigma as you think." The gesture was not lost on him. "Maybe not everyone can see what you're feeling all the time, but not everyone pays attention." Sighing, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, peering over the top at Kensei as she did so. "And one in particular is too busy searching elsewhere to notice what's in front of her."

Kensei had to laugh, even if it did sound painfully hollow to his own ears. Mashiro _really was_the can't-see-the-forest-for-the-trees type of oblivious moron, ironically adding to her charm instead of detracting from it.

Long moments of an almost awkward silence eked by before Lisa spoke again. "She's been back for a while now. How long are you gonna keep avoiding her?"

Kensei's skull cracked against the boulder as he sighed in surrender. Not defeat, nor resignation, nor frustration – Lisa noted. The sound was almost . . . blissful. He recalled the partial conversation he'd heard between Mashiro and Hachi. He despised the feeling of losing control of a situation. He'd been so careful . . . so careful not to let the control slip from his grasp over the years. He'd kept his own feelings at arms' length while keeping her fiercely clutched to his side, afraid that the reverse situation would have been more damaging. Afraid that his emotions would take control. It shouldn't ever be that way. Mashiro should always be at his side, his feelings be damned. Indulging himself in both, he had decided long ago, would force him to lose control. He'd rather have her with him than to allow emotions to ruin everything and possibly cause a chasm to open up between them, impassable and unnavigable even with the aid of the familiar map of apologies and amends-making.

Every aching joint and burning muscle groaned in protest as Kensei pushed himself to his feet. Waving off Lisa's inquiry, he grumbled a reply, as much to himself as to Lisa. "I'm not avoiding her." He had no reason to avoid her. He was avoiding himself and was avoiding the truth. He wasn't quite ready to relinquish control and give in.


	5. Moment

A/N: Shout outs go to articwolfes, BLeach Rulez, piper, Sonnie, blah62, vulgarite succulent, Rruyk, and I Killed Tony The Tiger (you so silly, imouto-chan). Thanks to everyone for all your continued support!

I don't know what I'm writing anymore at this point. This is where I completely lost control of my story and it grew into a five-headed swamp monster. But, this scene popped into my head and I had to write it. If anything, it's good for development. Yeah. That's what it is. Enjoy!

* * *

Kensei noticed the small black box laying on his pillow almost immediately. He approached it warily, not necessarily wondering from where it had come, but wondering what it contained. Well, only one way to find out.

Kneeling down beside his futon, he leaned back on his heels and took the box in hand, opening it without further scrutiny. Laying his eyes upon the contents, he struggled to stifle the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He went immediately to seek her out.

"Oi, Mashiro," he called out softly as he approached the tiny woman now readying herself for bed. She turned to look at him as she removed her goggles from their green nest. When changing from her white suit into her usual tank top and shorts every night, she always saved her scarf and goggles for last, a fact that continued to confound and mystify Kensei. Maybe one day he'd ask her why. There probably was no real reason, though.

Kensei made a gesture with the black box in his hand. "Thanks," he said simply, humbly, as Mashiro's face lit up in recognition. She smiled and gave one firm nod of her head. When she saw his hesitation, she turned her entire body to face him, unintentionally quirking her head to one side.

"Do you like them?" she asked, her voice colored with uncertainty. This time, Kensei allowed that smile to stretch his lips.

"Yeah, _yeah_," he offered, the confidence of the repeated word supplementing the uncertainty of the first. "I just, um, need some help," he said with a modicum of candor.

Mashiro patted the space before her on her futon, wordlessly inviting him to sit. He sat not facing her, but with his left side facing her. He opened the box and offered it to her. She let him hold it as she fidgeted with the gold rings in his ear, carefully removing them and placing them in the box before claiming the new gunmetal-colored ones and pushing them through the holes in his cartilage. She was careful as she removed the ring in his tragus, knowing it was far more tender than any of his other piercings, despite it having had several years to heal. That one gave him the most trouble and often got infected. It looked well enough tonight, and she quickly replaced the ring with the new post. He flinched as she carefully screwed the spike cap in place. She mumbled an apology as she shifted and pushed up onto her knees.

As she set to work on his eyebrow ring, Kensei noticed the view down her tank top. Mentally scolding himself, he darted his eyes away to something – anything – other than her breasts.

"This is weird," Mashiro managed to say through her stern concentration as she attempted to slide the new curved bar through Kensei's eyebrow. He merely grunted in response. Mashiro spoke fluent Kensei-ese and knew he'd just asked her what she meant.

"I've never . . . " Her tongue darted out of her mouth and stayed there of its own volition as she unconsciously bit down on it in fierce concentration. She managed to worm the bar through his eyebrow without hurting him, to her surprise. Screwing the spiked cap in place, she sat back on her heels and beamed at him. "Wanna see?"

His nod was stern but patient. Retrieving a mirror from somewhere beside her futon, she held it up for Kensei to admire her handiwork. He first tilted his head to the side to view the dark metal now adorning his ear before facing his reflection head-on. He carefully scrutinized the vertical spikes at his eyebrow before capturing them between thumb and forefinger and tugging gently. His face twisted from indifference into a scowl, which then dissolved into mild amusement. "Looks like devil horns," he grunted.

Mashiro almost squealed. "Perfect for Kensei-meanie."

Dropping his hand to his lap, he gave one last appraising look to his ear and eyebrow before looking beyond the mirror to Mashiro. She was glowing with pride. Vaguely, he became aware somewhere in the back of his mind that this was the first gift she'd given him in many years.

When she noticed his gaze was on her, she realized he probably no longer needed the mirror and discarded it carefully on the floor beside them. He shifted then, a subtle movement Mashiro barely detected before she turned again to face him. He was smiling.

"Thanks again. I really do like them." He was quickly growing uncomfortable in his own skin. He wasn't used to receiving gifts. Showing gratitude for everyday things or for someone saving one's life was less foreign a notion to him than this.

"It's the least I could do," she said sweetly. "Kensei-meanie is always doing such nice things for me – guess he's not such a meanie all the time." Her eyes narrowed to slits as she grinned. "I wanted to thank you with a gift for replacing my favorite scarf."

Bubbly. She was still bubbly, but she temporarily replaced irritation with sweetness. At least she wasn't faking it. She was genuinely displaying her kindness. Thoughtfulness. Pure, saccharine love. Damn, but it was infectious. Kensei hadn't realized he was staring at her, lost in his own thoughts, until her soft giggles had subsided. The quiet of the warehouse surrounded them and filled the space between them. It was a comfortable silence, save for the air being pregnant with unspoken words between them. Those words would just have to remain unspoken.

For now.

Kensei slapped her shoulder, not unlike the encouraging 'taps' he had given his squad members during training exercises so long ago. "You should get some sleep." He moved to rise from the futon, but two delicate hands on his forearm stilled him. Mashiro leaned in toward him and made the lightest of pecks on his cheekbone.

"Goodnight, Kensei."

She leaned back again, but her hands were still on his forearm. He hadn't noticed that he'd closed his large hand over them. He couldn't help his blank stare as he looked into her eyes, searching for confirmation for what had just happened. Within his mind, a war was now waging: to ignore this advance or not? His inner Hollow said no. Now, dammit. _Tear her apart._ His heart was also screaming out a resounding no, but with less violent and carnal intent. Tachikaze and his brain both told him to wait, not to do anything drastic. And Tachikaze, at least, was a pretty smart fucker. His inner Hollow was cursing now at Kensei, pissed off that he listened to Tachikaze, yet again. To not only have a battle between his head and his heart, but also to have a Hollow and a Zanpakuto spirit, constantly waging war inside him, Kensei always felt like a goddamned circus was going on in his brain. How he stayed sane was a great feat of patience.

He didn't miss the playful tone in her sigh as he pushed himself to his feet and bid her good night.

She'd just caught him off-guard, that was all. It wasn't the first time she'd kissed him; she'd done much less-innocent things back in their captaincy days, usually while intoxicated, which had made it easier to refuse her advances. However, her delivering innocent pecks wasn't that uncommon, but it had just been a long time. She was playing a game, he realized, feeling him out to see how he'd react. That damned conversation with Hachi kept replaying in his mind, and he started to feel like he might have given Mashiro exactly what she wanted.

Mentally shrugging, Kensei attempted to turn his mind off so he could get some sleep. He didn't notice that he fell asleep with his fingers repeatedly tracing the invisible outline of her lips on his cheek.


	6. The Unforgiven

A/N: Shout outs go to BLeach Rulez, equitablyinjust, Sonnie, Jenipunch, coolgirl312, vulgarite succulent, piper, gekkoo, and I Killed Tony The Tiger (d'aww, imouto-chan... so faithful! T^T - and perceptive as always. You have the unfair advantage of knowing my writing style...). I've never really had a consistent fanbase following me on a weekly basis (can't say that I ever did anything to merit it), so this is pretty cool. :D Thanks, everyone! You make me smile with your faves, alerts, and reviews.

Welcome to the longest chapter yet! ...And now plot is really getting in my way. I don't even know where this came from, but I took it and ran. If you're keeping up with the manga, it gets really AU from here on out... As with many bad ideas, _"it seemed like a good idea at the time..." _haha Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

Oh, P.S., there is very very slightly citrusy content below (sorry, no lemon parties _yet_). ~Just the types of things that happen IRL when you have too many boys and girls living under the same roof... I speak, unfortunately, from experience.

* * *

Mashiro awoke to the sound of a soft, feminine voice lilting through the air. She knew that voice, and she hated it. What was that girl doing here?

Wriggling out of the cocoon of her futon, Mashiro didn't bother changing clothes before going down to find the source of that grating voice. Her efforts were rewarded when she caught sight of Hachi and two heads of orange hair. She instantly lit up, recognizing the second, unexpected owner of orange hair.

"Berry-taaaan," she cried as she ran and jumped onto Ichigo's back. At first outraged, Ichigo's expression softened when he realized who his assailant was. He greeted her warmly as she jumped down, and Orihime also greeted her. Orihime was confused but had the grace to say nothing when Mashiro snubbed her.

Hachi covered for Mashiro's rudeness. "Good morning, Mashiro," he said with a hearty laugh. "Ichigo and Orihime have come for a visit; isn't that thoughtful?" Mashiro hummed happily in response, her enthusiasm for seeing Ichigo overriding her general dislike for Orihime.

"I'll go tell Kensei that you're here," Mashiro offered as she bounced on the balls of her feet. She turned to go, when she heard Ichigo snort.

"Lazy bum, still in bed at this hour?" Orihime was protesting Ichigo's words, mumbling something or other about being impolite. Mashiro suspected Orihime held a healthy fear of Kensei after their initial meeting.

Taking her time, Mashiro waved back at Ichigo's question. "Nn, he's not much of a morning person." She paused to stretch and yawn. Truthfully, she wasn't much of a morning person either. In retrospect, she was surprised anything ever got done in the Ninth Division when they were running it. She giggled at her thought as she approached Kensei's sleeping form. He was sprawled out on his back, blanket long forgotten at his feet. The hand on his stomach obscured his emblematic 69. She couldn't stop the sigh that escaped past her lips. The sight was nostalgic, for starters.

Having learned from experience, many years ago, that Tachikaze was well within his reach, and that he could retrieve his zanpakuto and wield it effectively upon being suddenly disturbed in sleep, Mashiro was cautious as she knelt down beside him. Gently placing a hand on his bare shoulder, she leaned in closely, her voice ghosting past his ear. "Kenseeeeiiii," she cooed and waited for a response. He groaned and rolled toward her. Ugh, he was so adorable that it was disgusting.

"Kensei, Berry-tan is here!" She watched his face for any response. Nothing.

"Kensei," she started and had to stifle the giggles bubbling up inside her. "Kensei, I wanna have a baby." That did the trick. She watched in amusement – to Kensei's utter horror – as he bolted upright, almost shouting out against her whispered coaxing. His murderous glare eased as he realized she was still in that damned tank top. He hadn't noticed last night that it was _white_ . . . For what seemed like long moments (_but not nearly long enough_, and he chided himself at the thought), the only thing he could see was her small but perky breasts and slightly darker nipples protruding proudly through the painfully thin material.

Mashiro's face finally caught his attention. "Berry-tan is here! He came for a visit." He grunted in reply, taking a moment to collect his thoughts as the fogginess of sleep began to dissipate. He'd been having the most wonderful dream, and she'd just come and ruined it. She ruined it even before he woke, what with that baby nonsense and all. He sincerely hoped she'd just said that to get a rise out of him – confidentially, she got a few of those at once this morning. He sat up, with elbows on his knees and hands clasped behind his neck, silently willing that familiar ache in his lap to subside.

"We're gonna go see Berry-tan, right?" Mashiro burbled as she crawled over closer to Kensei. _Dammit_, couldn't she give him just a _few_ minutes? He wasn't used to waking up with someone's full attention on him, let alone hiding a full erection upon waking up. He usually had _some_privacy around here.

Without meaning to, he snapped. "Yes, Mashiro. Dammit. Just give me a minute." His outburst did nothing to faze her, of course. Sometimes he was secretly glad that she never took him seriously.

"That Orihime girl came with him, too," Mashiro continued. "They're with Hachi." Kensei was silently thankful that she kept talking. She was offering a distraction from his dilemma, like she knew exactly what was going on. She probably did, too. She was neither stupid nor naive.

He sighed. "That was rude. Shouldn't talk about people like they're _things_." He didn't necessarily care for Inoue either, but she'd changed a lot in the last year. The trials she had faced forged her into a new person. Kensei was glad to see that the girl had become stronger, if not in power, then in will. That type of growth was something that earned Kensei's respect.

Mashiro only huffed in response before her demeanor shifted back toward cheery. "Can I ride on your back?" She'd got the notion after jumping onto Ichigo's back. She liked being carried around; Kensei had done it on missions if she complained enough about her feet hurting. Though she'd never admit it to him, she faked more often than not just so he would carry her.

Pierced eyebrow rose to meet silver hairline as Kensei cast his gaze at her. "Will it get you to shut up?" Mashiro looked as though she considered the question heavily before smiling and nodding. "Fine." He reached for the nearest shirt – not necessarily the cleanest or most wrinkle-free garment – and pulled it over his head before Mashiro wrapped her body around his. He cursed inwardly as he felt her breasts pressed against his back. He'd suffered enough unsatisfied arousal for one day; why did he agree to this torture? If he were a weaker man . . .

By this time, Shinji and the others had already found their guests and were in the midst of general conversation with Ichigo. Orihime, Hachi, and Rose had found an out-of-the-way corner to drink tea and converse. As Ichigo greeted Kensei, Orihime's squeak interrupted them. "Muguruma-san!" She was smiling and waving like an idiot. Kensei untangled his arm from Mashiro's leg long enough to return her wave, which earned him a well-placed heel in the stomach. Mashiro was sliding down slowly, her arms around his neck holding tighter and tighter.

"Hi, Inoue–eeehhhh, Mashiro, you're . . . choking . . . " Kensei coughed as Mashiro apologized and scrambled for purchase further up his body. Feeling she still was not settled high enough, he hefted her weight easily, to the point where she was almost half over his shoulder. Deciding she liked it here, Mashiro pressed her face against his and clutched onto the hem of his shirt so she could fidget with something. Sometimes she really was annoying, but those smooth knuckles absently brushing his abs soothed his nerves and sent ripples of pleasure across his flesh at each accidental contact. He tried to focus as Ichigo called everyone together suddenly, almost urgently. When Orihime and her pals joined the group already assembled, Ichigo gave the crowd an appraising look. He had everyone's rapt attention.

"Head Captain Ukitake asked me to come here as ambassador. He's summoning you all to Seireitei." Ichigo had never seen so many faces turn sour so fast. Shinji was about to make pleasantries with Ichigo over the new Head Captain's health as a diversion, but he thought better of it as Hiyori glared at him, suspecting he might divert from the topic at hand. She was in no mood. She wanted to know what this was about, and now. The same thought echoed in the minds of the other Vizards. Instead, Shinji smiled, almost sarcastically.

"What does the Head Captain want with us?" Shinji gestured to his comrades. "They exiled us, on pain of death if we should return. I doubt he's forgotten that." Dark shadows crept over Ichigo's mind as he recalled the story Yoruichi had recounted to him. He was preparing his response as Love spoke up. "Never mind that; what's this really about, Ichigo?"

Mashiro felt Kensei's body tense when Ichigo said 'Seireitei,' and his frame increased in rigidity as the scene unfolded. She abandoned fidgeting with his shirt to instead cross her arms over his chest and clasp his shoulders in what might have been a hug. His hold on her tightened in response.

"He'd rather discuss it with you guys. Ukitake didn't make it clear to me, but I think he wants you guys to come back, fully pardoned. After seeing you guys fight in the war, he decided that you're definitely not traitors to Soul Society." Ichigo scratched the back of his head nervously as Orihime nodded in agreement.

"'Course we're not traitors," Hiyori snorted, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. "We didn't choose to become what we are."

Orihime smiled at all of them, offering her opinion. "Ukitake-san seemed really interested in welcoming you all back to Soul Society – oh, but I don't mean like in a bad way!" She laughed nervously. "He knows Kurosaki-kun is a Vizard, too, so I don't think he would trick you into coming just to do something horrible."

It was true: the Gotei 13 had known of Ichigo's powers and accepted him into their ranks without question or mistreatment. Clearly the Gotei leadership had become lax over the last two years, and Ukitake taking Yamamoto's place had secured a more liberal application of the laws. To think that this band of traitors could walk into Seireitei, fully pardoned, was a notion almost too far off to grasp – at least, to these said 'traitors.'

And many could speak for the non-duplicitous nature of Captain Ukitake. He had been, for as long as any of the Vizards could remember, a truly honest and caring man who held everyone's best interest at heart. The man was the very embodiment of kindness and friendship. However, he could also be cold and calculating – that was part of the job – but never pointlessly cruel or righteous.

Varying degrees of acceptance or resignation washed over the Vizards, some loath to return and others still wary of any dangers. Mashiro held herself tighter to Kensei; she was shaking. He couldn't tell if she were mad, scared, or crying, but he wanted to hold her. Not like this, but really hold her in his arms.

Hachi seemed the only one with the presence of mind to keep the conversation flowing. "When would Head Captain Ukitake like for us to come?"

"Sometime tomorrow. He said he would have the walls of the Dangai secured for your safe passage, but he didn't specify a time. I'm supposed to escort you, so I guess he'll notify me when it's time." Ichigo glanced at Hiyori. "That's assuming you guys decide to go."

Oh, so they had a choice? "What if we don't go?" Lisa asked, not trying to mask her disdain. Rose echoed the sentiment with, "What if only some of us agree to go?" Everyone had been thinking it – would they be worse off to refuse the invitation than to accept it? They'd spent the last hundred years in exile, living peacefully, and they'd generally like to retain that peace.

Ichigo waved his hands in front of him, feeling bombarded and overwhelmed. "Look, I don't know. Ukitake didn't say anything about hunting you guys down if you didn't come, so you're probably safe either way. Might be worth it to go and see what he wants, but uh . . . " he looked the group over slowly, taking in as much visual information as he could. They were all clearly divided within and among themselves. "Whatever decision you make, I'd suggest you make together."

Shinji nodded sternly, agreeing with Ichigo's logic. They'd held a united front for this long, and while they knew that one day it would end, that end shouldn't come so voluntarily. Strength came in numbers, and whether it was physical strength or emotional strength that they needed, they couldn't afford to split up. Not just yet.


	7. No One Gets Left Behind

A/N: Happy birthday to me! :D KANPAI! *holds up sake cup and starts tipping over* I've returned not long ago from an early birthday dinner with my closest friends and family at a traditional Japanese restaurant - I'm so full of harumaki and banana tempura, I can hardly breathe! Today I'm 24, and in celebration, you get an early update! *heart* Incidentally, this is my favorite part of the story thus far, so it's kind of like giving myself a gift, too. :D Shout outs go to BLeach Rulez, Heatherbell, Ayase Reincarnated, I Killed Tony The Tiger, equitablyinjust, lebleh, Jenipunch, DarkenedMoonAngel, piper, and CaribbeanPrincess07 (sorry I couldn't take you guys to dinner with me).

The 5 yen coin is considered lucky in Japan. _Go en_ (what it's called) is a homophone with _go-en_, _go_ being a respectful prefix, and _en_ meaning destiny or fate. It was mere coincidence that I chose a 5 yen coin, but I was delighted to learn this. Read on to see why I think it's so cool. :D

* * *

The recent turn of events had everyone discussing among themselves what they should do. Suspicions of entrapment still echoed, and some just plain didn't want to go back. A lively debate was presently ensuing, but Mashiro found herself unable to concentrate on anything anyone said to her. Instead, she sought out Kensei, knowing that they could at least have a conversation without saying much. She found him, sitting in the corner near his futon. He was reclining his head against the wall, eyes closed and brows furrowed. Pausing, she took a moment to remember him as he had been. Hair longer, chest exposed by his gi, white haori cutting a thoroughly masculine and intimidating silhouette. Compared to now, he appeared older then, perhaps because of his authority or the weight of his responsibilities. She absently wondered if Kensei were also remembering the past.

Sitting next to him, she leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. Normally, he would have pushed her away, but she was genuinely distressed; and he was gaining as much comfort from the contact as she was. They sat that way for long, silent moments. When Mashiro finally felt up to speaking, she asked dejectedly, "What are we gonna do, Kensei?"

He weighed the question; he wondered the same thing. Here sat the very first two Vizards who ever eked into existence. She shouldn't be here though; he should have been able to protect her better, to save her from this fate. He really didn't care if the Gotei pardoned them and even accepted them back into Soul Society. He'd washed his hands of that place long ago, but he knew that if she wanted that pardon and acceptance, he'd do anything to see it happen. "We're going to stick together, no matter what."

"Well, duh," she said, as though he'd just said the most obvious thing in the world. "Stupid Kensei." His natural response to being verbally cuffed in the head was to push her away, but as he moved his arm to do so, it changed paths on its own and instead wrapped around her shoulders to pull her closer. Mashiro was taken aback by the action, but she quickly recovered and nestled in closer, resting her head on his chest. After listening to a few steady heartbeats, she ventured further. "I trust Berry-tan."

She heard Kensei's response rumble in his chest. When he said nothing, she was going to push a little further, but he spoke up. "He's a good kid, smart. Ukitake wouldn't try to deceive anyone, either." She nodded, the action rubbing his shirt uncomfortably across his skin. The last time he'd held her like this, he recalled, was when her dog died twenty years ago. She'd been inconsolable to the point that he finally just hugged her so she'd shut up. It had taken three hours and a promise of ice cream, but she'd finally stopped crying. He'd longed to hold her like that again ever since. Not to say that they hadn't embraced in the last twenty years; he thought for sure that he would crush her to death in his embrace when he found her after the war. It was the only time he'd ever openly admitted that he was relieved for her sake, happy even, to find her alive. He might have claimed he wouldn't avenge her because of her stupidity, but it was a lie. Both knew it when the words left his mouth.

Presently, Mashiro was saying something, but absorbed in his thoughts, he missed it entirely. She understood his questioning hum.

"I said that we'll be voting soon. What do we say?"

Kensei had no answer. "What do you want?" He felt her body stiffen as she looked up at him askance. She could hardly believe her ears; Kensei always called the shots, and now he was asking _her_? Not to mention, he was talking about _feelings_? What _was_this devilry?

"Do you want to go and see what Ukitake has to say, possibly be pardoned, and even possibly start a new life in Soul Society? Or would you rather stay here and never know? Even if we meet with Ukitake, we should still have the option of returning here." When he put it that way, he'd almost convinced himself. He looked into her eyes and could see the volatile reaction of emotions colliding and mixing in her head. After what seemed an eternity, she finally spoke.

"Well, it's a pretty obvious choice. I'd like to hear what Ukitake has to say." She looked down again and resumed her earlier habit of fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don't mind going back for that much, but what if he gives us the choice to stay?" She picked at a loose thread as she waited for his consideration.

"What do you want?" His repeated inquiry shocked her again.

Once recovered from the shock, she sighed heavily. "I guess it would depend . . . but it's soooo boooooring here," she finished in a whine. He understood what she hadn't said, which was: yes, I would love to go back to Soul Society, so long as I'm employed in something that keeps me busy. "What if the others choose differently, though?" Mashiro began worrying her bottom lip between white teeth.

Kensei understood her concern. It was the same concern that Ichigo and Shinji had – the Vizards were a unit, a family. They'd been a family for the last century, and the prospect of that coming to an end was both optimistic and devastating. New beginnings followed the end of something great, no matter how sad it was to see that something go. No matter how hard it was to let that something go . . . He began to understand that this could end up being their new beginning, could be the _redefined boundary_Hachi had mentioned. Without question, wherever she chose to go, he'd be right beside her, but if a fresh start was indeed on the horizon, they could start a new life together, no longer as superior and subordinate, no longer as simply comrades. But that dreaded chasm . . . could he keep it from opening? Could he openly show her the love he'd kept at bay and keep her at his side from now on?

He wanted to tell her all of this now, but it would have to wait. Shinji was calling for them. "They say that all great things must end, but that doesn't mean that something better won't start." He forced a smile as he stood, offering a hand to pull her up. Before he could stop her, she jumped onto his back. "What am I, your taxi?" Mashiro only giggled. He marveled at his own patience today.

As they approached the rest of their gathered family, Mashiro whispered, nearly inaudibly, right into his ear. "We vote to go, right?" Kensei simply nodded once, trying to ignore the sensation of her warm breath on his ear. It also wasn't lost on him that she was returning control of the situation to him, asking him for the final decision. Admittedly, breaking character for the occasion had been hard, and she had seemed just as uncomfortable with the shift in balance, but he had to smile that things fell right back into place. That made him feel less weird about his uncharacteristic behavior. She jumped off his back, and they settled in the circle forming around Shinji.

"All right, everyone," Shinji introduced as he held his hands up in a grand show. "We've all had the day to think and discuss and hopefully have all decided." He looked around to see if anyone contradicted this. He nodded. "Good. We'll have a silent vote, then. Majority wins." He began passing out paper and pens. "One word: 'stay' or 'go.' No one will know who voted what, and we should keep it that way."

Everyone took the materials he provided, feeling more like children about to take a test in school. Love glanced around briefly before speaking. "What if there's a tie?" Everyone looked to Shinji with a touch of panic in their eyes; the thought hadn't really occurred to anyone. With eight of them, a tie was possible. How likely it was to happen was up for debate.

"We'll flip a coin," Shinji offered. Seemed like a sensible solution on the fly.

Hiyori snorted. "Why don't we do that to begin with?"

"Majority rules, remember?" Lisa seethed, suddenly not enjoying that she was depending on seven other people – and possibly a coin – to decide for her.

Hiyori bit back a growl as she emphatically wrote on her piece of paper. Others followed suit, and once everyone had finished and folded their papers, Shinji removed his hat and passed it around to collect the votes. Despite knowing that he could probably identify handwriting by guessing, this seemed like a fair way to 'not know' who wrote what. Bouncing the papers around in his hat so that they mixed, he held his breath.

"Here goes nothin'!" He reached in and pulled out one at a time, announcing each aloud. "Go . . . Go . . . Stay . . . Go . . . Stay . . . Stay . . . Stay . . . " Here was the decisive moment. "...Go."

"I will be damned." Shinji fished in his pocket for a coin and pulled out a 5-yen piece. "Heads we go, tails we stay." Balancing it on his thumb, he flicked it high in the air and let it fall to the floor. Everyone crowded around it to see.

"What's it say?" Hiyori demanded as she pushed through to hover right above the money in question. "No way."


	8. Always

A/N: Surprise! I had originally intended to post this chapter the first Friday of November, but I couldn't be that mean to you guys. Here's why: I have written a special Halloween bonus chapter, and I was going to post it today. So, you'd have to wait over a week to find out what happens! I don't want to risk any of you fine folk losing interest or sending lots of hate mail, so you get two chapters this week. :D Don't miss the Halloween chapter on Friday! And also, you guys are so awesome! Almost 1200 hits on this story in October! That's a new record for me! In celebration, the first five readers to PM me with their idea for a KenMashi Christmas fic get a drabble (possibly longer) for Christmas! *heart* Shout outs go to equitablyinjust, Jenipunch, CaribbeanPrincess07, Nicky Eira, BLeach Rulez, Ayase Reincarnated, I Killed Tony The Tiger, piper (ahaha I pulled a fast one on you!), and Pinky. And thanks for all the birthday wishes! *heart*

Ukitake is vast amounts of fun to write. I just felt you should know that.

* * *

Mashiro's soft footfalls reached his ears shortly before her voice. "Kensei." She waited for a response. His head rose from his pillow as he grunted, letting her know he was awake. She shuffled closer to his futon and stood over him, looking down and looking pitiful. "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I," he admitted. He sighed heavily, not believing what he was about to do. Pulling back the edge of his blanket, he moved over in silent invitation. The alternative would be to spend five minutes arguing with her over why she can't be in bed with him, and she'd either win or cry. The Mashiro he'd spent time with lately was a rare version of her normal self that surfaced not nearly enough, and he'd grudgingly admit to himself that he wanted to hold onto that. He wanted to hold on to that true Mashiro that she kept hidden so well, and he'd better do it tonight. She might be different in the morning.

She slipped into bed with Kensei quietly and lay on her side, facing away from him. She started regretting that move and would rather have laid her head on his chest in the hopes that the sound of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest would lull her to sleep. But then Kensei curled his body around hers and pulled her close. This was much better, she decided.

It was only now that Kensei was reminded just how tiny Mashiro really was. Holding her frame to him, she seemed so small and delicate. Fragile. She was anything but delicate and fragile, but he could pretend, when she was in his arms, and he vaguely suspected that she wouldn't mind. He was also reminded just how long it had been since he'd enjoyed anything so intimate as this situation. A sigh of utter bliss escaped his throat before his brain could recall it. Her hair smelled of peach blossoms, reminding him of all the times they'd been in West Rukongai, training or relaxing by the river. He was hardly the reminiscing, sentimental type, but that scent was so damn nostalgic. He closed his eyes and envisioned his home in the twelfth district of East Rukongai, his family and friends – he wondered how many remained.

Mashiro's soft voice drew him from his thoughts, reminding him he wasn't alone, and that sleep still eluded him. "Do you think we made the right decision?"

Shifting to raise up on his elbow, Kensei cast a thoughtful gaze at the girl in his arms. _His girl_. "What's meant to be will be," he said carefully. "And you know how hard it is for me to say that." This candor from Kensei was almost unprecedented, and while it surprised Mashiro, she was glad that he _would_ confide in her, no matter how rarely it happened. She was now hoping that they might stay awake all night talking, but her treacherous body betrayed her with a yawn.

Smiling softly to himself, Kensei brushed the hair out of her face. "Get some sleep," he ordered, his voice far more commanding and stern than his expression would have shown. Thankfully, she wasn't looking at him. Lowering himself down again, he returned his arm to its resting place around her ribs and gently cupped his hand around the arm on which she was lying. He really could think of better things to cup with his hands, but thinking like that right now was dangerous. Be it far from him to ruin a perfectly good moment. As he closed his eyes, he felt her hand fold over his and squeeze lightly. He returned the action by tightening his embrace. If either noticed when their legs entwined, they gave no reaction.

They each slept more soundly than they had in years.

* * *

"Lisa," a soft voice called out to her, "it isn't polite to spy." Her face turned white when he caught her, but she brushed the embarrassment aside and greeted her friend.

"Hachi," she said simply as the gentle giant sat next to her. Despite his admonishment for spying, she caught him giving a lingering look at the pair. "What do you think will happen to them?" She knew it was a loaded question but had to ask.

Hachi gave it some thought and politely turned his gaze from them as Mashiro turned over in Kensei's arms. "After two hundred years of partnership, they've formed a very deep bond. We all knew a time would come when we might go our separate ways . . . but they'll always be together, I think."

Lisa nodded. After a moment of companionable silence, she asked, "What about you, Hachi?"

He didn't hesitate to answer. "I will embrace whatever happens and make decisions as they come before me." Lisa nodded in agreement. That really was the only thing any of them could do, but the thought brought little comfort.

* * *

"Head Captain Ukitake," Lieutenant Sasakibe said as he opened the door to his Captain's chamber. "Please forgive the intrusion." Ukitake merely waved it off with a smile. "Kurosaki-san has arrived."

Ukitake's eyes became lost in his wide, gentle smile. "Please, bring him in." At those words, Sasakibe stepped aside and allowed Ichigo entrance. Once Ichigo was a few steps inside, Sasakibe asked if Ukitake required anything. He responded negatively, and Sasakibe closed the door with a bow. "Ichigo!" Ukitake cried happily as he rose and closed the distance between them. "You made it safely?"

Ichigo nodded. "Yeah, no problems from that damn sweeper this time," he said, contempt from experience evident in his voice. Ukitake only laughed at this and invited the boy to sit. He considered serving tea, but then he realized it was time to get to business.

"So, did they accept our invitation?" Ukitake could barely conceal the anxiety in his voice. Ichigo wavered. "They didn't come, did they?"

Ichigo sighed, shoulders slumping. "Well, it's like this . . . They were pretty divided. Some of 'em didn't want to come back here, you know?" He laughed nervously. "They were afraid it was a trap." Ukitake nodded in understanding. Urahara, Tessai, and the shinigami now known as Vizards had been treated beyond unfairly, thanks to Aizen and his elaborate schemes. He knew they would be apprehensive to return to the people who had unjustly labeled them as criminals. That's why he'd sent Ichigo, a relatively neutral party who allied with both Soul Society and the Vizards. If anything, he hoped that they would trust Ichigo, but it didn't seem like they put as much stock into the boy as he thought. He'd also reserved a small hope that his past friends would remember him fondly and accept the hand of renewed friendship and peace that he was extending. But as badly as they were burned by their former comrades, he couldn't blame them for not trusting anyone from Soul Society.

"But," Ichigo continued after a long pause. _But? _Ukitake's eyes lit up. That one word held a lot of hope. "They managed to put personal feelings and fears aside to come and at least listen to what you have to say." Ukitake cried out in joy. He'd made it his personal mission to try and right the wrongs that the Gotei 13 and Central 46 had perpetrated in the past, and he now had a chance to make amends for one of the most grievous errors. A hundred and one years ago, the Gotei lost some of the finest captains and lieutenants to ever grace the Seireitei, due to the ignorance and arrogance of the institution, and Ukitake was determined to clear their names – just as he had recently done for Urahara, Tessai, and Yoruichi.

Ukitake practically took flight across the room, white haori fluttering behind him. "They're in the Meeting Hall, yes?" He could hardly wait to greet his honored guests. Ichigo barely had time to hum a response before he was chasing after the very ecstatic Head Captain.

"Ukitake, wait!" Ichigo called out as he jogged along in the Captain's wake. Sasakibe wasn't far behind them. Falling into step beside Sasakibe, Ichigo grimaced. "This running can't be good for his health!"

Sasakibe nodded sternly. "There's no stopping him," he said flatly.

"I know."


	9. This is Holloween

A/N: Welcome, ghouls and gals, to the bonus Halloween chapter! Though not a widely recognized tradition in Japan, I still wanted to write something fun for the occasion. I hope you'll really love this chapter. I laughed all the way through writing it, and there's plenty of Vizard interaction, which is love. Shout outs go to my most beloved Ayase Reincarnated, CaribbeanPrincess07, BLeach Rulez, Pinky, equitablyinjust, and I Killed Tony The Tiger. Btw, over 1300 hits on this story this month and counting. WOW. You guys blow me away. Four spots left for that Christmas fic offer! Start brainstorming. :D

Oh, P.S., this is a little bit future-set as far as actually fitting into the story in progress (chronologically, it would come sometime after chapter 13), but it can also work as a stand-alone. Bear that in mind. P.P.S., we're back to the usual grind. Updates every Friday!

Hyaku monogatari kaidan, "100 Ghost Stories," is a popular game in Japan during the summer. My sources inform me that you can see this game being played in the anime School Rumble (but I don't know anything about that). A group of people will light 100 candles in an otherwise dark room and take turns telling spine-chilling tales, each blowing out a candle once they've finished a story. The room grows darker after each story, until eventually, everyone is left in the dark with imaginations running wild. If you'd like more info on the history of the game, check out RoninDave on youtube or google it.

The stories sampled here are traditional Japanese folktales, as retold by Lafcadio Hearne, RoninDave of youtube, and Dieter Wanczura of artelino dot com. I don't own the folktales or the lovely rearrangements thereof. I mention_ Ringu_, and I definitely don't own that. I've also included some urban legend-type stuff, and no one can really lay claim to that. Also, if you're interested in reading/watching the original stories, I can link you.

* * *

Despite the cooling breeze from the oscillating fans placed at random intervals throughout the warehouse, the Vizards' collective, unpleasant stickiness was all too constant a reminder of the unseasonably hot and humid evening. Between his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his body and Mashiro's constant, wordless whine, Kensei could find little comfort in this muggy-as-all-hell warehouse. Agitation painted his features as he pointedly ignored the noisy girl.

Hiyori fanned herself vigorously with the magazine she'd been reading not five minutes ago, and she looked around at each of her friends, growing increasingly restless as the minutes dragged on. Apart from the whirring fans, the whining Mashiro, and the crackling magazine pages, the warehouse was silent – so utterly quiet that even those faint noises sounded like elephants dancing on the roof. "I'm bored," she said at last, unable to weather the silence any longer. "I'm gonna go watch a movie." Knowing it was an open invitation, Lisa and Love decided to join her, but all three stopped in their tracks when the lights flickered and then went out altogether, stranding them in the dark.

"Not _another_ black-out," Rose said, the eye-roll practically audible in his voice. As Hiyori let loose a string of swears that would make even the dirtiest old salt blush, Kensei rose from his chair, his imposing silhouette just barely visible in the minimal natural light from outside.

"I'm going out," he announced. "I can't breathe in here."

Scrambling to her feet, Mashiro felt around carefully and caught up with Kensei, who was already at the large rolling door. Shinji heard her quietly ask to go with him, the softness of her voice nearly lost in the clamor of the opening door. Whether he assented was anyone's guess, but as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, lightning blazed across the sky, closely followed by a shocking clap of thunder, and then the bottom fell out, soaking Kensei within seconds. Too dumbfounded to move at first, he turned and looked back into the warehouse, his hawk eyes easily picking out Shinji's smiling ones.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?" In too foul a mood to feel any worse, Kensei admitted his defeat to Mother Nature and gracefully strode back into the warehouse as though he didn't feel anything like a drowned rat.

"Hey, why don't you leave that door open a little," Lisa suggested, and much to everyone's relief, a gust of refreshing wind rushed through the warehouse. As relieved sighs resounded, Kensei wasted no time in going off to change clothes.

Rose groaned belatedly. "So much for playing guitar on the roof."

"Doesn't look like we'll be going anywhere," Love added, "unless ya don't mind being soaked when you get there."

Hachi had been meditating, but he was presently drawn out of his silence. "Well everyone, I think I'll turn in for the night. This heat is tiring, and the rain makes for the perfect lullaby." Hiyori silently marveled that the giant didn't get more worked up over things. How'd he ever stay so damn calm?

Kensei returned as Hachi departed, and he eased back into his chair. Mashiro was lying on the floor by it again, but at least she had stopped the high-pitched whimpering. Maybe his headache would go away.

"I'm bored, y'all. What're we gonna do?" Hiyori hung upside down over the arm of the couch, and as she kicked off to flip over it, she effectively connected with Shinji's jaw. He cried out, expecting an apology for the accident. Instead, all he got was, "That's in case you do somethin' stupid later."

Nursing his bruised chin, Shinji started brainstorming ideas for things they could do to alleviate their boredom. There was no light, so they couldn't fight, no electricity at all, so they couldn't divert themselves with their technological luxuries, and no one wanted to go out in the rain . . .

"Hey, I've got it!" Shinji cried out, startling everyone in the room.

"Whatever you're about to say," Hiyori interrupted, "is what that kick was for."

Waving her off as though she could see the action, he popped up in his seat and leaned in toward the people he knew were mere feet from him. "Let's play the hundred ghost stories game! We haven't played that in a long time."

Kensei's sarcastic snort drowned out Mashiro's delighted cry. "We don't have five candles, let alone a hundred."

"Actually," Lisa interrupted, "I have quite a collection of candles. I just need to be able to see to get to them."

"What the hell are you doing with candles?" Kensei was afraid to know the answer.

"They smell good," she explained. "That's a valuable commodity when you live with a bunch of pigs. No offense, Mashiro."

Hiyori howled indignantly, while Rose offered a lighter to help Lisa find her way in the darkness. "We might as well play it," he said indifferently. "Not like we have anything better to do."

"At least we can kill some time," Love added, despite Hiyori interrupting to add her two cents.

"This is lame, Shinji. Ya couldn't come up with a better idea?"

Shinji laughed. "I'd like to see you try! C'mon, this'll be fun!"

Lisa returned with the candles, one of which she had already lit. Setting them out on the table, she took the time to light each of about a dozen, and a disagreeable mixture of aromas filled the air, causing Kensei's face to scrunch up in disgust. His headache was only that much worse. Unwilling to leave the comfort of his worn out recliner for one of the straight-backs, he instead got up and scooted the chair closer to the table, collapsing miserably back into its awaiting arms. Much to his dismay, Mashiro decided to plop down into his lap, curling up into his begrudging arms. Would it be lame to use the 'I have a headache' excuse at this point?

Everyone gathered around the table, except Hiyori. When Shinji noticed this, he looked around to find her sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest. "You're not joining us?" She only snorted in reply. Shrugging, Shinji turned back to everyone else. "So, who wants to start?" When no one volunteered, he laughed. "Okay, it was my idea, so I'll start."

After taking a moment to select a story, he dropped his voice to a dramatically low volume and began his tale. "Once there was an acolyte at a Buddhist temple who hosted a game like the very one we're playing. The tales they told were so frightening that his guests kept making excuses throughout the night to leave. As the guests dwindled, so did the light from the candles"

"And there was a ghost and everyone died and the last guest's wife was the ghost," Rose finished impatiently.

"Hey, that's no fair!" Shinji shouted. "You gotta let me finish!"

"But you always start the game with that story," Rose whined, flipping his hair dramatically.

"Just blow out a damn candle," Kensei groaned with an overwrought eye-roll.

Shinji wasn't the type of guy to pout, but gosh darn it, he was pouting. Knowing there was nothing to help it, he blew out a candle and sat back in his chair.

"I'll tell one," Lisa said, leaning forward into the glow of the candles. "Late one winter night, a taxi driver picked up a woman on a street corner. She needed to go somewhere he'd never heard of, but as long as she could give good directions, he'd take her there. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was, despite her face being covered by her scarf. He kept looking into the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of her, and after a while, she noticed this. 'Do you think I'm beautiful?' she asked him"

"And then she took off her scarf, revealed her hideous split mouth, asked him again, and then killed him," Mashiro shouted with animated glee, somehow now thinking the object of the game was to guess the ending of the story. Her wriggling jostled Kensei's head around, compounding his headache. He really ought to just go to bed . . .

Lisa looked affronted but blew out a candle.

"Ooh, Kensei, you tell one! You're so good at telling stories," Mashiro pleaded. Knowing she wouldn't shut up unless he did, he sighed in resignation.

"A horror story, huh?" He leaned up, wrapping his arms around Mashiro's waist so he didn't accidentally dump her in the floor. "Mashiro wants to have children." He blew out a candle then and resumed his reclining, still holding on to the now flailing woman, afraid that she might hit him.

"Ooh, damn Kensei, you gave me chills," Lisa shuddered as the others tried not to laugh. Before Mashiro's indignation could get out of hand, Love tried to distract her with another story.

"I've got one," he said over Mashiro's shrill cries, and that seemed to have the desired effect. She quieted down as he began his story. "Once there was a traveling priest who lost his way. The sun was setting, and he didn't know where the nearest village was, but he saw a little hut on a nearby hill. He went to the hut and asked the old man there for shelter for the night. The old man was apologetic but sent the priest down the road just a little way to a nearby village. When he arrived, he was taken in by a family who offered him a warm bed and food. Near midnight, the priest was disturbed by a knock on his door. It was the eldest son of the household, who apologized for disturbing him. 'We did not wish to inconvenience you when you came, but my father has passed away this very day. It is customary in our village to leave before midnight when someone has died and spend the night elsewhere. We are afraid to stay, for misfortune befalls all who do.' The priest said that he was not afraid and would perform last rites for the man's father"

"And then nightmare creature comes in and eats the body, and the priest discovers that it was a priest living in that hut who had been cursed because of his greed," Lisa supplied.

Shrugging, Love blew out a candle.

Rose sighed. "Have you all heard the one about the blind guy playing songs for the dead?"

A resounding "yes" echoed through the warehouse.

"He gets his ears ripped off." He blew out another candle.

"You guys are real downers," Shinji groused.

Lisa leaned over on the table. "It's not our fault we've heard 'em all before."

The rain was pouring down steadily, and the warehouse was finally cooling down. Tomorrow promised to bring season-appropriate temperatures.

The silence continued for some moments as everyone tried to think of stories they hadn't all heard a thousand times, which was challenging. Ready to abandon the game, they were getting restless.

"Wait! I've got one!" Mashiro shouted in epiphany. "The story of Okiku!"

_Shinji_ actually groaned. "Aw, c'mon Mashiro. Everyone knows that story! It's so well-known, we even knew about it as kids in Rukongai."

Kensei pinched the bridge of his nose, the pounding in his head growing exponentially with her outburst. "You'd better make this good."

"I promise," she chirped, "you've never heard this version!" She clapped her hands in readiness. Kensei was sure of one thing: if she were telling the classic story, then it was definitely going to be something they'd never heard.

"A long, long time ago, there was this guy Aoyagi"

"Aoyama," Kensei corrected,

"who thought his servant girl Okiku was pretty hot. He tried hittin' on her, but she thought he was pretty gross. He kept trying though, and his wife got really jealous. She got so jealous that she hid one of Aoyagi's"

"Aoyama's," Kensei interjected again,

"special Spanish plates that was"

"Dutch," Kensei interrupted again. "Don't you know anything about Japanese history?"

"Who's telling the story, here?" she snapped, shifting in his lap to send him a condescending stare. "Anyway, the plates were really valuable or something, and his wife accused Okiku of breaking it. Aoyagi"

"Aoyama. God, Mashiro. Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Shut up, Kensei!" she screeched. "Let me tell the story!"

While they bickered, Love started rummaging around for food that didn't require cooking. And no one really wanted to finish the story for Mashiro. They were getting more entertainment from her abysmal storytelling and the resulting arguments than they'd had all night.

"Anyway, he was so mad at Okiku that he threw her into the well and sealed it up! She was down there for days and days and days! Seven days she stayed down there until she finally died."

"That was _Ringu_, Mashiro. They're not the same story."

"Shut up! I'm getting to the good part!" She wriggled in his lap again, repositioning herself so she could lean in closer to the table. "After she died, Okiku would crawl out of the well"

"That's also_ Ringu_."

"Would you like to tell the story, stupid Kensei?" Mashiro huffed, her breath making the flames waver. "She would crawl out of the well, and she would count from one to nine, and then she'd start making the most awful noises! This happened every night, and it was driving Aoyagi"

"Aoyama"

"insane. Finally, he couldn't take any more! He asked his friend to help him get rid of Okiku's spirit. His friend came that night and hid near the well. When he saw Okiku, he was horrified! But, he knew he had to help Aoyagi"

This time, Kensei didn't even bother.

"get rid of the spirit. So, he waited, and sure enough! Okiku started counting. 'One,' she moaned . . . 'Two' . . . 'Three' . . . " Mashiro was, at least, telling this part of the story to some effect, her voice growing louder and more sorrowful with each number. "'Four' . . . 'Five' . . . "

"Hey, look. She can count."

Mashiro jabbed Kensei with her elbow as she continued. "'Six' . . . 'Seven' . . . 'Eight' . . . Aoyagi's friend had to think fast! How was he going to get rid of this spirit? How could he keep her from crying? 'Nine' . . . "

A cold gust of wind cut through the warehouse then, extinguishing the remaining candles.

"Aoyagi's friend stepped out from the shadows then and approached Okiku. And at the top of his lungs, he shouted"

"Hey Kensei, you want a beer while I'm up?"

Love's shout startled everyone, even drawing a gasp from Hiyori, who had been listening with rapt attention.

"Best ending that story coulda had," Kensei mumbled as he gently pushed Mashiro off his lap to go get that beer.

* * *

Piercing screams shattered the silent night, waking all the Vizards and filling them with panic and terror. Shinji arrived on the scene first, where he found a ghostly pale Hiyori soaked in sweat. He'd never seen such fear in her eyes.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She still looked panicked, her breathing erratic, but she showed no signs of injury.

Gasping as she grabbed onto him and pulled herself closer, she managed to choke out a reply. "Nightmare. Oh God, it was awful!" She sounded like she might cry.

Kensei arrived next, Tachikaze in hand and ready for battle. "Everything all right?" he asked as he scanned the area carefully.

"Yeah," Shinji laughed. "Just a nightmare. She'll be fine."

Kensei relaxed visibly. He shouted out the code word to let the others know that everything was clear and they could go back to bed. "A nightmare, huh? Was it one of our stories?" He couldn't help his laughing. After all, only Mashiro's comedy of errors was told in its (near) entirety. Despite this, Hiyori nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, one of the stories." She choked as she inhaled, trying to hold back the tears of sheer terror. "Please, Shinji, don't let it happen! Oh God, it was so horrible!"

Laughing, he tried to pry her from his torso. "What was so horrible?"

"Mashiro's children!"

They laughed hysterically as Hiyori wailed even louder. Finally catching his breath, Shinji forced out a few words through his laughter. "How am I supposed to keep that from happening?" Wiping away the tears, he looked to Kensei. "Hey man, make sure you bag it first." Looking back to Hiyori, "There, I've done all I can." Still laughing, he pried Hiyori away from him again. "Go back to sleep, shrimp." He and Kensei strolled off, still laughing heartily as Hiyori sat alone in the dark with her nightmarish visions of the future.


	10. Bitter Taste

A/N: So, my Halloween party was successful, and so was our Hyaku Monogatari Kaidan (it did kinda turn out like the Vizards' try at it, except there were 20 of us interrupting each other, lol). I wish Halloween could happen every week. My yard was rife with Bleach characters, Kensei and Mashiro included. :D Shout outs go to lilica, Ayase Reincarnated, BLeach Rulez, CaribbeanPrincess07, and piper. You guys make my week so much brighter. :D Why does it feel like ages since I updated?

P.S. equitablyinjust: I hope Ukitake-soutaichou is a little more to your liking, here. Btw, hope you're okay. Haven't heard from you in a while.

* * *

Rose, Shinji, Love, and Kensei hadn't realized, but standing in such a nostalgic place, they'd unconsciously lined up in their old formation. Hachi, Lisa, Mashiro, and Hiyori had followed suit, collectively thinking that the former captains had intentionally done so. The room was eerily silent as they tried not to catch each other's gazes. This room had always been so grave, and with the awkward tension stifling them, it felt no different today. No one dared speak, not even a whisper or a sigh. They hadn't been waiting long, but with the stagnant air hanging around them, it had seemed like hours. And Shinji just couldn't take the silence anymore. Leaning forward out of line, he glanced at the regal pair of doors at the entrance before straightening again and glancing at the line of his comrades in front of him.

"Why the hell're we all lined up, anyway?" His voice seemed to shatter the heavy silence. Hiyori managed to cross her arms over her chest and huff in exasperation, and Kensei had just enough time for his eyebrow to twitch a few times, before they all heard a clamor outside the double doors.

"Ukitake, wait up a minute!" That was Ichigo's voice.

"Head Captain, sir, have some dignity!" That was... Sasakibe?

Ukitake eased through the doors then, a wide grin plastered on his face, all urgency gone from the moment. It took everything in him to keep his face from contorting in pain. It took even more effort to keep from hacking uncontrollably. He'd really overdone it, but he'd manage. He always did.

Straightening himself, he walked the aisle between the two lines of Vizards, Sasakibe and Ichigo still trailing in his wake. When he was standing at the front of the room, he eased himself onto the floor. Once he was comfortable, he looked around the room, appalled that no one else followed his example. He waved at his lieutenant and the Vizards. "Well, don't be shy! This isn't a Captains' Meeting! Make yourselves comfortable!" He didn't miss the glaringly obvious formation in which the former captains had placed themselves, but he chose not to remark. Instead, he just smiled.

Everyone tossed questioning gazes to each other, bewildered by the changed atmosphere of the room. They watched as Ichigo didn't hesitate to sit at Ukitake's side, but when Sasakibe reluctantly knelt at his Captain's other side, the Vizards decided to follow suit. Ukitake waved a beckoning hand for them to gather around closer. They scooted and shifted around, their previous formation now lost. Kensei noticed, with a mental grin, that Mashiro sidled right up to him. It was almost like old times. _Almost_; this relaxed atmosphere was entirely unexpected, and Mashiro wasn't being annoying for once. My, how the times do change.

Despite Ukitake's efforts to lighten the mood in the room, however, a dark cloud was still hanging over the Vizards. The Head Captain's good intentions were evident, slowly removing the lingering doubt that this was a trap; regardless, they all remained alert. This also didn't change the fact that half the group had been apprehensive to return, for whatever personal reasons they reserved. Everyone tried to remain patient as Ukitake idled in a light conversational tone, making general pleasantries with the former exiles as he awaited tea and other refreshments to be served to his guests. He was evidently trying to dispel that dark cloud as he eased into business, trying to loosen up the tension that was tenaciously clinging to the air.

He took the time to explain how the Central 46 cabinet was being carefully replaced, and that a new, fairer justice system was being set in place. Meanwhile, Soul Society was under martial law, and the Gotei 13 and other branches of the military were expected to self-govern as sufficiently as possible. In explaining this, he clarified his intentions regarding the Vizards.

"You see," he said steadily, "since we are expected to govern ourselves sufficiently and fairly, we captains are taking it upon ourselves to correct past errors we know the justice system has made." His appraising eyes never wavered as he looked at each face before him. "Each of you is shinigami, until the day you pass on. You are one of us, even if you are no longer associated with the Gotei. And as such, we cannot overlook the grievous injustice done against your persons."

Lisa, Hiyori, and Kensei exchanged glances.

"We're not lookin' for your pardon," Shinji interrupted, unable to hold his tongue. "With all respect, Head Captain Ukitake."

Hiyori chirped in, "Yeah, we got along all this time just fine. We don't need yer blessin' or anything."

Ukitake sighed, but not in exasperation. On the contrary, he'd really missed the unique personalities these great folks possessed. "I'm not offering a pardon," he said with a smile. Everyone's eyes snapped to him. "We have erased the outstanding criminal charges entirely from the records. It took us some time to track down the information, but once we found the documentation, we immediately destroyed it."

Feelings of disbelief washed over them. Despite Ichigo's expressed notion that Ukitake might offer a full pardon, they all had been hesitant to believe. But this... this was just unbelievable. The room fell eerily silent again, everyone afraid that even a single sound would break the suspension of belief. This had to be a bizarre dream. This wasn't happening.

Hachi at last found his voice, the sound as gentle and quiet as ever. "Head Captain Ukitake, this is quite the news. Certainly, we are all grateful for what you and the Gotei 13 have done for us, but we will require time to accept what has happened. I know I can speak for everyone when I say that this is quite unbelievable and beyond our greatest expectations." He studied the floor thoughtfully, not unlike Love's present fascination with the wall or Mashiro's current employment of fidgeting with her scarf.

Rose felt the need to amend Hachi. "It really is unbelievable, but to say I had any expectations from Soul Society at all is far from truth." He echoed the sentiments of his comrades. They'd all long ago abandoned any faith they had in the establishment that had cast them out as criminals, traitors, for something over which they'd had no control. They'd lived for so long with the lingering fear that one day the Gotei would capture and execute them, as promised. And for those hesitant to return today, it had taken more than a little faith in that boy Ichigo to reassure them that they'd be safe. Realization began dawning upon them all, even for those who'd been prepared to come back. They were safe.

After long moments of silence, Ukitake finally spoke again. "I understand that this comes as a shock, but this is no longer the Soul Society you remember. I hope, if anything, it will become a better place."

Lisa bit back a bitter laugh. This was all too much. Too much to take in.

Ukitake rose, careful not to sway on his feet. He nodded in gratitude when he noticed Sasakibe and Ichigo helping him stay steady. Taking the prompt, the Vizards also rose to their feet. Once Ukitake was standing steadily on his own, he smiled brightly. "I hope that we may consider you all as our allies, if not now, then in the future. You are all welcome here any time you wish." He laughed, an almost strained sound. "Just don't go causing any trouble." Ukitake had missed his calling in life by not being a father, and the Vizards knew it. His tone was not threatening or warning, simply fatherly and affectionate.

Yeah, Soul Society had definitely changed.

Shinji couldn't stop himself. "Us, cause trouble? My dear Juushirou, what would ever give you that impression?" He winked after his quip, returning the room to a lighter atmosphere. Ukitake only laughed.

"You need not be in a hurry to return to the Living World," he said in invitation. "If there are any old friends you'd like to visit, please feel free to linger." This earned him a few nods of understanding and a few, perhaps nasty, glares. He waved his hands out in front of him. "Well, go on! I won't keep you any longer!" He continued laughing, straining against the cough that was fighting to escape his chest. He knew better than to run around like he had. No one missed the pained look on his face, but they shuffled out of the Meeting Hall anyway, save for Hachi, who lingered.

"Head Captain Ukitake," he addressed, "let's get you to Unohana-san." Ukitake only nodded in acquiescence as he allowed Hachi, Ichigo, and Sasakibe to take him to the Fourth Division Headquarters.


	11. Home

A/N: Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, BLeach Rulez, Arsene Lupin III, Jenipunch, equitablyinjust, piper, chancewriter, xXphangedpockyprincessXx, MsArianPisces, Pinky (sorry to disappoint, my dear), and CaribbeanPrincess07. You guys rock and made my very long, sleepless week so much more bearable. :D

For all the research into the Bleach verse I did to make sure I got details right, I somehow managed to overlook, at first, the size of Seireitei. Mea culpa. So bear with me and try to suspend your disbelief, just a little. Remember when I said I like creating backstories? Yeah, this is where I started getting in over my head. But I do love it so. Also, I cried when I wrote the last paragraph. T^T

* * *

No sooner than the Vizards had exited the First Division Headquarters, Lisa had taken off full-speed toward what everyone assumed would be the Eighth Division. She probably felt obliged to visit Shunsui and Nanao, despite having been one to vote against coming. They knew her well enough to know that she'd not wanted to return; the memories were too painful. No one would disagree on this point. Watching Lisa speed away, the remaining Vizards broke off into pairs without discussion. Rose and Love went one direction, Shinji and Hiyori in another, and Kensei and Mashiro in a third. They all had unfinished business, curious minds, and feet willing to wander.

Kensei's feet, in particular, were leading him to the Ninth Division. A place so damn important to him that he had permanently emblazoned its number on his body for all to see. A place that, despite the events of the last hundred years, continued to be near to his heart. Mashiro knew exactly where they were going, but she didn't ask why. She just let her feet follow the familiar paths to her old home.

The absence of shihakusho garnered them strange looks, but no one stopped them to say anything. Ukitake must have made it known throughout Seireitei that where would be eight strangers in weird clothes wandering around the city. Truthfully, with Ichigo and his human friends often wandering around the city themselves, the Vizards' appearances were less out-of-place than they realized. The shinigami were growing accustomed to strange events. Kensei scowled as he realized this. This place was too damn lax.

When the Ninth Division Headquarters came into view, Mashiro's feet faltered. When Kensei realized she was no longer at his side, he paused and looked back. She cast an uncertain look to him, could see her wavering mentally. He nodded once and held his hand out to her. This was just as hard for him. Hesitantly, she took his hand as they approached the gate and walked into the compound.

Ignoring all the stares they earned, they forged ahead. Kensei was really hoping he wouldn't have to ask anyone to find what he was looking for, but as they entered the chaotic building, his resolve was fading. This place was pure madness. If he were still running this division, it would never look like this. People were rushing to and fro, paper flying about in their wake. A voice came up from the clamor then, strong and irritated. "Miyaki! Get over to the Tenth Division, now please! Tell Matsumoto that if she's ever this late with her report again, I'll personally kill her!" A girl squeaked out a "Yes, Captain!" and then she buzzed past Kensei and Mashiro, quickly mumbling apologies as she shuffled through the room.

Following her reverse trail with his eyes, Kensei spotted the general area where she had started and found a white, sleeveless haori among the throngs of busy shinigami and paper. Well, whadda ya know . . .

Kensei pushed past the shinigami in his path without apology as Mashiro followed in his wake. Approaching the Ninth Division Captain, he folded his arms over his chest and straightened his back. "Well, well. Little Hisagi Shuuhei. You've become quite a man."

Shuuhei snapped around at this, immediately dropping the stack of paper in his hands when his eyes landed on one Muguruma Kensei.

Kensei gave Shuuhei an appraising look from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the 69 tattoo. After a long moment, he gave a half-smirk. "My tattoo, my division, my position. Damn, did I leave that much of an impression on you?"

Kensei already knew the answer. The first time Ichigo had seen his tattoo, he remarked with wonder that it was the same tattoo Shuuhei had. After little prompting, he'd learned that one Hisagi Shuuhei was, at the time, Lieutenant of the Ninth Division. Annoying as it was to think of, even now, Kensei had known he was beaming with fatherly pride when he'd learned the kid had grown up to do something with his life – and to follow in his footsteps, no less.

And now, Kensei saw the same eyes he'd seen so long ago, swimming with emotions he couldn't quite place. The poor kid looked like he would start crying any minute. Clapping a hand on his shoulder, Kensei allowed himself to smile. "Smile! Be happy!" He almost laughed as he repeated those long-ago uttered words. "I'm proud of ya, kid."

Despite the tears that threatened to fall, Shuuhei smiled brilliantly, an action he'd denied his hero back then. When he found his voice, it was shaky. "Thank you... for everything."

Patting his shoulder a few times thoughtfully, Kensei turned to leave. As he left the room, Mashiro no doubt in tow, he threw up a waving hand. "I'll see ya around, kid."

Shuuhei watched the former Captain and Lieutenant leave the division, smile unfading long after they'd disappeared.

Once outside the gate, Mashiro slipped her hand into Kensei's again, and he tightened the hold as their fingers interlaced. Something about this just felt natural to him. He thought that if it had been back then, he'd never be caught dead holding hands with her, even if she hadn't been his lieutenant. But now, he couldn't find it in him to care about his misgivings. They ambled on together for what felt like ages, when they approached the East Gate. When they went through it into Rukongai, Mashiro looked around, confused.

"Hey, where's Kaiwan?"

A low growl escaped Kensei's throat. "Aizen," he snarled, earning a small "Oh" from his partner. They said nothing more until they'd made their way through the seventh district. Mashiro knew Kensei was lost in thought and really, _really_ didn't want to talk about it. She knew they were headed to the sprawling estate on the edge of the twelfth district, where Kensei grew up. Rarely were souls born into Soul Society, and even rarer did it occur outside the noble families. Nevertheless, Kensei was one of those rarities. He was wondering if the estate even still belonged to his family, if any were still living, and since Mashiro could offer no answers, she only said, "I'm hungry." She didn't mind that he ignored her.

At the edge of the eleventh district, Kensei's pace quickened. A left here, now a right, a sudden left. He was almost running, ignoring the indignant cries of the people he nearly collided with as he rushed along the lane. Mashiro allowed him to drag her along, trying to keep up with Kensei's bounding strides. He halted suddenly before an iron gate. Beyond the gate was an expanse of lush green, not unlike the other manors within the upper-class district. But this one, this one was different. This was Kensei's home. His hold on her hand was nearly crippling. Mashiro thought she might want to remind him to breathe, but just then, an elderly gentleman happily working in the yard spotted them.

The man rose to his full height and shielded his eyes from the high noon sun, which reflected brightly in his silver hair. Recognition and disbelief dawned on the man's face as he dropped his arm to his side; slowly he walked across the yard to the gate, as though he were afraid this apparition might disappear if he moved too quickly. Mashiro's hand abandoned, Kensei was already opening the gate and walking through. The old man at once began sobbing as his son embraced him for the first time in far too long.


	12. Let Go

A/N: Here, have another chapter this week. Getting back to the KenMashi, in hopes of appeasing the gods (*is looking at Pinky*). I've nearly finished writing this story anyway, so hopefully this won't compromise my Aizen-like plan for the update schedule. :D But really, anything for you guys. ... Well, almost anything. I would do _anything_ for love, but I won't do _that_. (*is shot for bad '90s pun*)

* * *

Night had already fallen on Rukongai when Kensei and Mashiro begged their leave. Though reluctant to part from his parents so soon, Kensei left with the promise to visit as often as he could. Ukitake had given him leave, after all, to return to Soul Society as often as he wished; asking Urahara to open the Senkaimon for him once a month or so wouldn't be too unreasonable. Hell, Ichigo made more frequent trips between the worlds.

He'd had a lot of explaining to do regarding his century-long absence and sudden reappearance. He was unsurprised to learn that the Gotei had informed them of his (non) death, but he clarified the circumstances for them as simply as he could. Tactfully, he'd left out the whole Hollowification thing. While essential to the plot, he'd made the story convincing and tragic without the fact. Fortunately, Mashiro had deemed it wise to keep her mouth shut the entire time he spoke. A correction from her would have caused more trouble than he was ready to fix. In turn, he'd learned that his little sister was living a quiet life with her husband, not far away in the fifteenth district, and that his parents had spent their time taking in orphaned souls from the slums, hoping to offer them a better life. One adoptee was currently in the Academy.

Kensei was currently writing his mental to-do list. Besides striking a bargain with Urahara for a monthly Senkaimon use, he'd have to visit his sister (_and threaten her husband)_, get to know his adopted 'siblings,' visit that kid in the Academy, and maybe train that Shuuhei kid some. His Division was a nightmare. Feeling a heavy weight on his arm, Kensei was drawn out of his musings. Mashiro slumped over, resting all her weight on him. Her feet were barely moving in a shuffle.

"Idiot," he mumbled as he stopped and squatted low to the ground. "Get on." Mashiro hummed with what little awareness she had left as she all but collapsed onto his back. Wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his shoulder, she was asleep before he even stood up. Realizing the others had probably been awaiting their return for hours now, he stepped into shunpo, never dropping the pace even once past the East Gate and back in Seireitei. Having nowhere else to go, he made a beeline for the First Division, hoping the others were there. To his surprise, Ichigo greeted him at the gate.

"The others are already gone," he said before Kensei could ask, "except Lisa and Hachi." This fact stunned him. "Hachi is with Ukitake at the Fourth Division, and I don't know where Lisa is," he concluded.

Kensei grinned. "I know where Lisa is, and she'll probably still be there in the morning." He fought back a laugh. She was, in all likelihood, on the roof of the Eighth and drinking, and she'd be waking up there in the morning with one hell of a hangover, if Shunsui had anything to say about it. "But Hachi . . . is Ukitake all right?"

Ichigo made a face, something between brooding and pouting. "Yeah, he's fine. That idiot knows he's not supposed to be running around, but he overdid it when I told him you guys came. When I left, he and Hachi were talking about something, I don't know what. I hurried out of there. Unohana-san really gave it to him."

Kensei winced. He knew first-hand how scary she could be. He also found it amusing that even in her absence, Ichigo addressed her formally, despite forcing himself to be on a first name basis with just about everyone else he ever met. "So, I guess we'll be waiting around, then," Kensei concluded. No need in opening the Senkaimon any more than necessary, and Lisa would probably be pissed if she discovered in the morning that everyone had left her behind.

Shifting his weight, Kensei realized his fatigue. He'd used shunpo to cover a far distance, and the featherweight of Mashiro's slight form on his back felt more like he was carrying her mass in lead. He'd really like to set her down somewhere so he could sit and relax, if even for a minute, but he didn't want to risk waking her. She was unbearably grumpy and annoying when disturbed in sleep. After today's overwhelming events, a grumpy and annoying Mashiro was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Ichigo shrugged. "If you wanna go back now, it's no problem. I've got to go back, anyway. I missed a day of school for this, and there's no way I'm letting that jerk Kon have any more fun."

Almost as if on cue, Kensei sensed a familiar reiatsu approaching. Hachi. The gentle giant approached and apologized for his long absence, and then he asked the others. He argued that Lisa probably wouldn't mind if they left without her, and so they decided. They'd be off home in no time.

The warehouse was unexpectedly silent when they entered. Everyone was still awake, yet no one spoke a word. Hiyori sat at the table with a bowl of rice, stabbing weakly with chopsticks as she stared at a wall. Shinji sat at the other side of the table, staring at the opposite wall. Rose simply sat. Love bounced a basketball off the wall, languidly catching and tossing it back. Everyone just seemed so damn . . . sad. Of all the times for Mashiro to be asleep . . . He silently wished she had been awake when they discovered this scene. She'd have bounced around, trying to cheer everyone up. He'd gladly trade this gloomy atmosphere for her annoying, tirade-like cheer-fest.

No one even looked to them as they entered, but Shinji took a bored tone as he asked, "Where's Lisa?" Then his glazed eyes focused on the trio, and he laughed uncharacteristically gruffly. "Never mind," he added, realization and amusement setting in. Without another word, Hachi joined the rest and attempted to alleviate their moping, while Kensei wasted no time getting Mashiro to her bed.

Lying her down on her futon, he slipped off her boots. Ten tiny, obnoxiously blue toenails greeted him. How he missed a color that bright over the last few days was beyond him. Her toes wiggled in their newfound freedom, causing a smile to tug at his lips. Unable to fight the temptation, he ran a single finger across the bottom of one foot, and she jerked at his touch. He should have expected her to be ticklish. Next, he tugged gently at her gloves until her hands were free of them. He took one of her hands in his, ran his thumb over her perfectly manicured nails, stroked her palm with his forefinger. Her skin was a beautiful contrast to his, soft and milky compared to his tanned, callused hands.

She rolled onto her side, irritation painting her features. Yeah, she was really tired, if she were this irritable in sleep. Being mindful that she always saved her scarf and goggles for last – though he couldn't reason why he was considering it – he reached for the invisible zipper in the front of her body suit.

Slowly . . . carefully . . . his hand was shaking as he eased the zipper down, making it no further than just between her breasts when he heard her mumble in her sleep. "Pervert." _Haha, really cute, Mashiro._ God, she really was annoying in her sleep. And she was _smiling _now_._ Eyebrow twitching, he retracted his hand slowly. He couldn't do this; it was wrong. Sighing, he untied her scarf and carefully pulled it from around her neck before gently sliding her goggles off her head.

He sat beside her for long moments, staring off into nothing. Maybe he was hoping she'd wake up; he didn't know. He looked back to her, still smiling in her sleep. She'd been unbearably well behaved these last few days, a fact that didn't cease to amaze. She was a far cry from the annoying kid he'd watched rise through the ranks of his division quickly to become his lieutenant, but she'd always be perky, bubbly, selfish, and idiotic. That was only a fraction of the person she was, however, and that fraction was diminishing with the passage of time. Some would always remain. He knew she'd never be completely different. He loved the contrast between their personalities. Sometimes he was too serious, but she reminded him that he could have fun occasionally. He counted that reason as just one of many why he loved her.

He was assaulted then with a memory, and he felt his smile burning the muscles in his face. It was a rainy day in Seireitei when his girlfriend of five years broke off their relationship. The unexpected announcement devastated him, and he spent the better part of the day drinking sake in his office. Rules be damned, he needed just that one day; no one noticed that he only pretended to work. Except for Mashiro. He hadn't uttered a word about what happened, but when his seemingly empty-headed lieutenant brought in more paperwork, she uttered offhandedly, "Cheer up, Cap'n. I didn't like her, anyway." He'd laughed bitterly, voice heavy with the tears he'd been shedding. Yes, Muguruma Kensei had been crying, and over a _woman_, no less. "Like I care what you think. You only date losers, anyway." She'd wasted no time in rebounding with, "Like I care what you think." He'd dropped his head back down to his arms on the desk, mostly in defeat and sorrow, but also to hide the smile that was threatening to overtake the tears. He remembered how she'd kissed the back of his head and mumbled, "Stupid Kensei."

That's when she'd started worming her way into his heart. It wasn't until years later when he realized the fondness he felt had grown into love, but looking back, she had probably already been in love with him. That was also the first time she'd called him by his given name, and it was annoying. It hadn't moved him with its beauty, sentimentality, or familiarity. The way she said his name always grated his nerves.

Returning his attention to her sleeping face, he silently thanked her for all her years of friendship and support. Though he'd probably never utter the words to her, she'd made a real difference in his life, to the point where he didn't want to imagine his life without her. So much so that he found himself willing to relinquish his control, finally. Today was a day of liberation, of being freed from the burdens of the past.

Leaning over, he brushed a kiss onto her forehead.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new life.


	13. Break the Clouds

A/N: Is it that time again already? Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, piper, Pinky (you're funny, it's totally cool), hitsugayalove, and equitablyinjust. And a very special shout out to Jenipunch, who wrote the 69th review! I never anticipated getting that many reviews, but last week when I actually looked at how many you guys have thrown my way, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to recognize this particular number. I mean, c'mon. _Hot. _Btw, totally check out "Say You'll Haunt Me," a fabulous song by Stone Sour. It's recently become my go-to song for inspiration to finish this damn fic.

* * *

A few minutes before noon, the warehouse door rolled up to reveal a very pissed and very hung over Yadoumaru Lisa. Everyone's eyes snapped to her immediately as she stormed in.

"_I hate you all_," she seethed.

Shinji was howling in laugher. "Why? Because you actually had fun?" Everyone was snickering, except Love. He didn't look too amused; silently, he got up from the table and immediately set to work boiling water for tea. Shinji observed this but chose not to remark on it; instead, he looked around the room at everyone, who seemed to be quite at ease.

"Well, looks like everyone's in a better mood today," he sighed contentedly. "We have a lot of mixed feelings. Anybody wanna air their's?"

Lisa sat with a groan and held her head between both hands, glasses discarded on the table. "I promise not to hurt anyone," she groaned, "but since it's done now, can we find out who voted what?"

Though Shinji would rather not see this break everyone up, it did seem like a good way to start venting. Before he had the chance to speak, Hiyori showed everyone that she had no problem sharing.

"'Course I didn't wanna go. Nothing there for me anymore." She crossed her arms defiantly.

Lisa glared at her, silently warning the short blonde against the volume of her voice. "Of course I voted not to go." Her voice faltered. "Too many . . . memories . . . " her voice trailed off as she shed silent tears. The room was silent, save for Lisa's quiet sobs. Love brought her a fresh cup of tea and rubbed her back soothingly as he passed by to sit on the other side of the table.

No one was brave enough to speak for several moments, until Love's deep voice filled the void. "I voted to stay, for Lisa's sake." This admission brought a wretched sound from deep in Lisa's throat. Before Love had time to react, Hiyori and Mashiro were at Lisa's side, embracing her and trying their best to console her. Hiyori couldn't stop the tears that came to her eyes, and soon she was also sobbing. Lisa had been brave enough to say what she couldn't admit. Seeing the panic on Mashiro's face, Love and Shinji stepped in and helped her comfort their friends. Hachi ambled over closer, his gentle presence lending a soothing aura, and while Rose drew closer, he stayed back a bit so as not to smother anyone.

Kensei also came in closer around the table, drawing Mashiro into his arms. He knew she wanted to help, but right now, the two people who could do it best were comforting Lisa and Hiyori. She didn't resist as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, and instead she leaned into the comfort he offered and placed her hands on his forearms. Rose gave them a questioning look but said nothing.

When Hiyori's sobs had dissolved into sniffles and Love had successfully coaxed Lisa into sipping her tea, the atmosphere in the room began to shift back to its lighter mood. Clearing her throat, which was now near unbearably sore, Lisa rasped, "So, Rose?"

He snapped out of his trance, realizing that conversation was going to continue. "I, uh," he began, still trying to pry away from Kensei and Mashiro his transfixed gaze. "I voted to go." He shrugged. "Honestly, I was just curious what would happen. What about you guys?" he directed toward the pair that had captured his attention. When everyone's eyes landed on them, Mashiro squirmed uncomfortably in Kensei's arms.

"We voted to go," she said slowly when Kensei didn't answer, but he helped her out.

"Curious, same as Rose." He grunted when Mashiro continued her squirming. Hoping the action would be too small to notice, he began stroking her shoulder with his thumb to soothe her. "And I had some unfinished business."

Mashiro was anxious to get those eyes off her. "What about you, Hachi?"

The round, pink head bowed lowly. "I voted to stay," he admitted softly. "Like Hiyori, I felt there was nothing left for me there, and like Lisa, I felt overwhelmed by the memories. However, in talking with Head Captain Ukitake, I discovered that there may yet be a purpose for us."

Shinji had been preparing to give his response, when he heard Hachi's conclusion. "Oh yeah?"

"I cannot speak on it, for I do not know the details myself, but he seems interested in having us back in Soul Society permanently, and with purpose. The way he spoke, it appears he does not have all the details yet worked out, either." Hachi frowned slightly. He hoped Ukitake would forgive him for divulging this much already, and he hoped his friends would forgive him should they ever discover that he'd avoided telling the truth in a big way.

Despite herself, Hiyori's eyes lit up at Hachi's promising words. Mashiro didn't try to hide her smile. In fact, they were all feeling the twinge of hope stir in their hearts. Their lives had served little purpose over the last century. To once again employ their skills to the full extent, to once again be a part of something much larger than themselves – the thought was more than a dream but a baser instinct.

When no one else said anything, Shinji decided it was time to come clean. "Well, sorry to break yer hearts, but I didn't vote." Hiyori's voice was the loudest in the uproar. He decided to elaborate. "My ballot was blank. I jus' made somethin' up on the fly." There was head shaking and confused mumbles.

"I don't believe it," came one confused voice. "You're so full of it," came another.

"We needed it to be a tie. I didn't know for sure what everyone had decided, so I knew I'd have to force a tie if I could."

"You just got lucky," Rose commented. "It could have turned out to be majority."

Shinji nodded. "Yeah, coulda. But then I wouldn't need to make up a vote, would I?" He grinned devilishly. "If it'd turned out to be somethin' like five against two, it wouldn't have mattered. We'd all have been going or not, and not too many people woulda been cryin' over it. But with us all divided over it, I figured it woulda been best if everything had been left up to fate."

Despite the others quite vocally expressing their disdain, Kensei only grinned. Shinji became their _de facto_ leader for a reason, and that reason was that he was damn good at it. He completely removed himself emotionally from the situation to take care of the others. "So Shinji, what would you have voted?"

He gave Kensei a lazy stare before answering. "Whatever the situation called for."

This earned more disdain and ire from the others, but Kensei held Shinji's stare, expressing his admiration and appreciation for such a strong and beneficial leader – friend. Shinji recognized Kensei's sentiments and smiled. When the brief bromance was over, Shinji pointed to Kensei and Mashiro.

"Now, tell us what's going on here, hm?" Everyone's attention returned to Kensei and Mashiro. She immediately resumed squirming under the scrutinizing gazes, and he had the grace to blush furiously. He attempted to respond, but it came out as an unintelligent sputter.

"'Bout damn time," Hiyori huffed, before turning her attention away and blowing her nose for the seventh time.

Lisa caught herself laughing, despite her blinding headache and raw throat. She was still sniffling and wiping away stray tears that refused to quit coming. "Do you want – us to leave so – you can get started on that – baby?" Though her sentence was broken with hiccups and laughter, it was heard loud and clear. Giggles passed around the room contagiously as Mashiro's face turned purple from embarrassment.

Kensei stared at her hard. "If you weren't hung over . . . " He could not finish his threat for her laughing.

"Now, now, children," Shinji interrupted lightheartedly, "let's not give them such a hard time." He glanced back at the pair. "But really, 'bout damn time."

Love looked up and around the room. "When we cashin' in on that pool?"

Rose immediately pulled out a wad of folded notes and placed them in Love's hand without a word. Lisa looked up at him, half-apologetically. "I'll pay ya later."

"You guys took bets?" Kensei sounded indignant, while Mashiro was insisting,

"B-but, there's nothing . . . "

Her voice went unheard as Kensei dragged her away. The whooping of their comrades followed them.


	14. Learning How to Bend

A/N: Happy Black Friday, everyone! I was thinking about doing a Buy 2 Get 1 Free thing with another double update plus a special one shot chapter, but time got away from me this week, so you only get one chapter. Think of it as sleeping through the alarm and not making it to the mall before sunrise to catch all the best deals. Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, piper, Valentine'sNinja, Bleach Rulez, and Awake Phoenix. Is anyone else as curious about Tachikaze as I am? I'm not really satisfied with the first half of this chapter, but oh well. C'est la vie.

* * *

From down below, Kensei could hear the others still giving Shinji a hard time over the vote, and the conversation was dissolving into individual discussions at much lower volumes. Mashiro simply sat on his futon, not yet recovered from the embarrassment at being called out. He continued to half listen to the noise below, trying to sort his thoughts. He'd sworn to himself that today would be the beginning of their new life, and somehow, he'd foolishly convinced himself that a little bit of open affection would be enough. He'd heard her attempting to decry the accusations, and it had almost broken his heart.

Again, that conversation she'd had with Hachi was replaying in his mind. Damn it all, but he could swear that man had said those things to _him_, as though he _knew_ Kensei had been awake and listening. _Send clearer messages_, he'd said. Mashiro had gotten the point of Hachi's message and was following the advice quite well. Why was it such a difficult concept for him to grasp? He'd been in relationships before. This wasn't new and foreign. He could navigate this territory fairly well; so, he might be rusty, and she might be . . . well, Mashiro . . . but still, she was under the impression that there was nothing. _Nothing_. He'd have to prove her wrong.

Absently, his hand wandered into the cargo pocket where Tachikaze was humming happily. Kensei wondered why his zanpakuto spirit was so happy, while he was in so much inner turmoil.

"I'm proud of you. You've managed not to screw this up yet, although you think you have," Tachikaze replied, despite Kensei not asking. "In fact, I don't think you could ever screw this up. She's fiercely dedicated to you. No one loves you more, probably not even your parents. I know, I know, that's a stretch," he continued, "but trust me. You always have."

Kensei growled. "Why are you even giving me relationship advice? This is ridiculous."

Tachikaze laughed. "You've made it my life to fight for her. I care just as much for her as you do – well, I'm a part of you, so that makes sense, huh?" Kensei's brows furrowed in response. "As much as you hate it, Chief, you can't avoid talking to her. Let her know what's going on inside you. It's not that bad, I promise."

Sighing, Kensei realized this was sound advice. It annoyed him when he knew Tachikaze was right. Rising from the ledge, Kensei returned to his futon, where Mashiro was intensely surveying the floor by her feet. He knelt down before her, hoping he would catch her gaze. He waited patiently for a few moments, and eventually her eyes wandered up to his face. She smiled nervously, in what was probably the most pathetic attempt he'd ever seen her make to cover her feelings.

God, why was this so hard? He looked down awkwardly before looking to her face again. Drawing in an exaggerated breath, he released it in a long sigh before he could speak. "You know I always want you by my side." She nodded. "And I don't want anything to change that." She nodded again. He returned the gesture firmly and kept an intense gaze on her for a lingering moment. "Good." Without warning, he lunged forward, sending his lips crashing against her in a bruising kiss.

Nothing about his actions was graceless or inexperienced, only full of years of pent up passion and longing. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, just as impatient to taste their love as he was, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. Leaning into her, he braced himself with his arms on either side of her body, but it wasn't enough. He had to touch her, he had to run his hands along her body, had to – stop having these dangerous thoughts. Balancing himself on his knees and one arm, he supported her weight easily with his other arm. Her body felt so warm and compliant against his, but he knew he had to stop now or there would be no stopping.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, he admired her flushed face. He'd absolutely stolen her breath, a fact that did nothing but make him desire her more. When she caught her breath, she smiled brightly and began at once to let her fingertips explore the planes of his face and tangle in his hair. Despite himself, he was also smiling. Everything about this felt so damn good and so . . . right. If he'd made this move years ago, would he still be enjoying her touches? That didn't matter, because right now, his whole world was in his arms.

"Kensei," she started, still sounding breathless, "I-I'm . . . hungry." Her stomach growled to punctuate the statement.

All the tension and anticipation fell from his body, and he almost dropped his hold on her as he laughed. He pulled her in for another kiss before hauling them up to their feet. "You're so annoying," he mumbled, still smiling, as he took her hand and led her back to their friends.

Mashiro's head was swimming as her friends pulled her along. They were going out to eat, something they hadn't done in ages. Today felt like a celebration, for more reason than one. Despite everyone decrying their fortune at having their 'criminal' pasts erased from Soul Society's records, they were all secretly relieved and thankful. Door after door of opportunity was opening for them now, and though a flood of unwanted emotions swept them up, they couldn't help the stupid smiles on their faces. Not to mention, today was a personal victory for Mashiro. She was too lost in her own thoughts, trying to make sense of what had happened, but all she could focus on was remembering how Kensei's lips had felt on hers.

She hung back as she watched Kensei walking in front of her. Lisa was walking between him and Love, and she distantly heard Kensei ask Lisa how she was feeling. She smiled weakly and responded positively, but Mashiro could tell she felt like she wanted to die. She heard Kensei reissue his previous challenge for Lisa's earlier comment, and she rose to the bait. Smiling absently, Mashiro wondered just how much things would change between them. She felt so torn between wanting everything and nothing to change. Gradual changes, she supposed, would be the bes–

"Oi," the voice pulled her attention away from her thoughts. Kensei had paused and turned back to her, hand outstretched. "Hurry up." Quickening her pace, she caught up to him and took his hand. She couldn't erase the stupid grin gracing her face as they walked hand in hand through town with their friends.

* * *

Ever since that day, curiosity had been gnawing on his brain. He'd tried his best to ignore what he'd seen, but he couldn't . . . _not see it._ He'd tried to dismiss it, to ascribe it to a 'cover story' for her true intent. He couldn't even bring himself to ask her about it, just to squelch that curiosity. Try as he might, though, he couldn't forget what he'd seen. He didn't even know why, but the damnable urge to _give her everything she wanted_ was what put him here, in front of this store, staring at the door handle like it was a Vasto Lorde. He'd summoned the courage to do this once before; why couldn't he do it now?

With a deep breath, he walked in, memory again failing to serve when he attempted to recall even opening the door. Sighing, he realized how melodramatic he was being. He glanced around the store, automatically spotting the lady with black bobbed hair and soul-piercing gaze. Mustering his confidence, he approached her directly.

She greeted him kindly, recognizing his face from a week ago but had a look as though she couldn't quite place him.

Returning her greeting, he continued, "The girl with green hair, the other day . . . uh, what was she looking at?" He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. God, he really didn't want to be here.

Recognition washed over the lady, and with a hum that sounded like a blend of satisfaction and joy, she immediately began scanning the case in front of her. "Ah," she said as she unlocked the case and plucked out a ring. Handing it carefully to Kensei, she beamed proudly. "This, I believe."

He examined the ring thoughtfully as a blush crept up his neck. Though he couldn't figure out why Mashiro would want any jewelry at all, let alone a ring specifically, he knew that this was all wrong. The ring was bulky and flashy. He thought about her small, delicate hands, about how she always wore gloves over those hands, and then about how she used those hands in combat. No, no, this wouldn't do. Sighing, he offered the ring back to the lady. If she really wanted something this pointless, he'd get it for her (he cursed to himself), but this one wasn't right. Hesitantly, almost shyly, he looked over the contents of the counter in front of him. Consternation flashed in his eyes as he quickly dismissed the choices before him. No, no, _no way . . . _Wait.

He pointed directly to what caught his eye. "That one." The lady smiled as she retrieved the ring he selected, and she placed it in his awaiting fingers. It wasn't anything special – quite plain, in fact. It was an unassuming and inconspicuous little thing that would fit well under her gloves, delicate and petite to suit her hand, and it looked like it could really take a beating. What had drawn his attention in particular, however, was that small round diamonds of varying sizes dotted it, and they reminded him of . . . _bubbles._ Despite his twitching eyebrow, his scowl twisted into a grin full of simultaneous irony and triumph.

Leaving the store with the box in one of his pockets, he decided he'd save the gift for a time when he screwed up. He heard Tachikaze laugh. "You really do underestimate yourself, sometimes."


	15. The Sound of Madness

A/N: Damn, is it that time again already? This week flew by. Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, equitablyinjust, CaribbeanPrincess07, piper, BLeach Rulez, and ct-taichou. If any of you have read my ShuuHina ficlet, "Momo's Peach," this chapter is actually what spawned it. If you haven't read that ficlet, btw, go do that after you read this. :D[/shameless self promotion]

* * *

Over the last few weeks, Mashiro hadn't been quite as clingy as he'd expected, but she'd definitely been as annoying as he ever remembered. He'd yet to decide if the tradeoff had been worth it, but a large part of him was relieved that things hadn't changed much. They spent more time together – a small fraction, really – and the way they interacted physically altered barely. Instead of dragging her around by her elbow (or on a leash – he still might threaten it), he led her around by her hand. She'd often thrown her arms around him playfully or in annoying pleading often before, but more often than not now, her embraces were subtle and warm. And when they could steal a private moment, his kisses were anything but hesitant.

But really, not much had changed.

Except that she was making it a frustrating habit to fall asleep in his futon almost every night. In his arms. Infuriating, his inner Hollow often remarked. He marveled that Kensei hadn't plowed through that girl several times over yet. Kensei only ever responded with, "If I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you." Yeah, not much had changed.

Dawn was coming earlier now as the days grew shorter and colder, and when the light filtered in through the fogged windows across the warehouse and seeped through Kensei's closed eyelids, awareness came to him. He realized how much time had passed since their visit to Soul Society, which reminded him of his vow to his parents. That he'd even let the sun rise before getting up, he suddenly felt pressed for time. If he were going, he'd better go now. Carefully easing himself up, he managed to free his arm from under Mashiro. It was completely numb, but he definitely felt the wet spot where she'd been drooling on him. Disgusting.

Once he'd dressed, he went down and quickly started work on some rice and tea. Perhaps it was force of habit, but he prepared more than enough for himself – possibly more than enough for the entire group. Well, they would have to reheat the water for tea, but they weren't incompetent . . .

"Heading out for a few days?" Shinji's voice came through quietly, but the nonchalant tone wasn't lost.

Kensei turned at this as he shoved more rice into his mouth. He nodded, surprised by the intrusion. He didn't expect anyone to be awake for at least another hour, but this saved him from having to leave a note.

"What about . . . " he jerked his head toward where he knew Mashiro was sleeping.

Swallowing, Kensei followed his gesture. "She'll be all right. Tell her for me, though?"

Shinji nodded and then helped himself to a bowl of rice. They stood in companionable silence as they ate, but Kensei was obviously in a hurry. Nevertheless, Shinji couldn't avoid elaborating on the topic. "I figured you'd be the first of us to go back," he mused lightly. Kensei's grunt asked him to explain. "Out of all of us," he drawled, "it seems like you had the most to lose, and you pretty much did lose it all. And out of all of us, you've managed to adjust to the changes with, well . . . _comparative_ ease." He stressed the word, knowing that becoming Vizards and exiles hadn't been easy for any of them, to be forced to leave behind their homes, friends, and in Kensei's case, family too.

Kensei weighed the words, his gaze narrowing and focusing on that ambiguous area Shinji had nodded to before. "I didn't lose everything," he said at last. He returned his eyes to Shinji's face. "I feel like I'm trying to put the pieces back together, but they don't fit anymore." He sighed. His words had been unintentionally cryptic, but his friend knew exactly what he was trying to say.

"Nothing will ever be the same as it was." Laughing lightly, he added, "But, you've got a pretty good start here, yanno? Got yer woman, got yer family, and it's probably not much of a consolation, but ya got us, too."

Kensei couldn't stop the chuckle that erupted from his throat. Shinji had managed to slow his rush, but now he realized how long he'd lingered. Setting down his bowl, he was about to announce his departure, when he sensed a familiar reiatsu in the neighborhood. Both looked immediately to the door.

"Best wait up, Kensei. Boy Wonder is on his way."

They remained as they were, casually drinking their tea, and they appeared completely unaffected when Ichigo suddenly rolled up the door and came into the warehouse.

"Good morning, Ichigo!" Shinji singsonged, no longer controlling his volume. The thunderous sound of the door had probably woken everyone. He offered a cup of tea to Ichigo and allowed the boy to initiate the conversation.

"Ukitake wants to see you guys again. Today, if possible," Ichigo said without introduction. He sipped on his tea gratefully.

"What a coincidence," Kensei said dryly as he set aside his tea and walked off. Shinji assumed correctly that he was going to wake Mashiro, if she weren't already awake, that is.

Kensei could still hear Shinji and Ichigo across the warehouse. "I really don't know what it's about this time." "Might be that thing Hachi mentioned." "What thing?" "Eh, he mentioned a _thing_. I don't know." "Anyway, I'm supposed to pick up breakfast for everyone at the shop . . . see ya at Urahara's!" The door rattling open and closed again punctuated Ichigo's departure. Unsurprisingly, Mashiro had slept through all that noise, but the others hadn't. He heard them waking, moving about, and talking. Sighing heavily, he knelt beside Mashiro and nudged her. He could always take a solo trip next time.

When she made no response, he ground his teeth. "Mashiro. Wake. Up." She moaned then, her voice heavy with sleep – and a heady, seductive tone, he noticed – and rolled over lazily. Showing no other sign of waking, however, he swallowed the urge to yell in her ear as he'd done so often before. Huffing in exasperation, he looked away, trying to calm his nerves. He'd played the Wake Up Mashiro Game many times in his long life, and it had always ended with him frustrated and her grumpy. It was high time for a new strategy.

Returning his gaze to her, he didn't bother hiding the wicked grin that spread across his face. Reaching out, he slowly and gently traced a line with his fingers, down her neck, between her breasts, over her flat stomach. When his fingers were almost dangerously low, they lingered before he pulled his hand back. Her appreciative humming was more than enough to get his blood pumping, quickly leaving his brain to pool lower in his body. He was on all fours beside her now, leaning in dangerously close to her ear, whispering to her, beckoning her to wake, as his fingers continued to explore. She shuddered awake when she felt a single finger trace the underside of her left breast and then brush over the nipple.

Hiyori had just crammed her mouth full of rice when she heard suspicious moaning somewhere above her. She looked around; _Kensei and Mashiro_. By the looks on everyone else's faces, they heard it, too, and were trying to ignore it. Eyebrow twitching, she continued to chew, slowly, as though the sound had made her lose appetite. Shortly after, she heard Kensei growl – _playfully_? – and Mashiro giggle. She stopped chewing altogether and held the mush in her mouth as she looked around. Everyone else looked pretty damn nauseated, too. Then, Mashiro's breathless cry of her lover's name rang out in the warehouse, followed by a long, strained groan from said lover. Hiyori promptly spewed her mouthful of rice straight out.

"Oh, COME ON!" She yelled. Everyone else had a similar reaction, either spewing rice or tea, or choking on their food as they giggled.

Almost immediately after Hiyori's outburst, Mashiro dropped down before them, fully clothed and red-faced. Kensei followed right behind, thoroughly winded and face crumpled in pain as he clutched his stomach.

Rose rolled his eyes. "Do we even _want_ to ask?"

Kensei sucked in air as he tried to speak. Finding words almost impossible just now, he just barely managed to croak out a weak "Ow."

Mashiro turned away from the bowl of rice she was preparing. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to kick you _there_, but that's what you get for tickling me!" Turning her attention back to her food, she finished with, "Kensei's soooo stupid."

"So, you guys weren't . . . " Love trailed off, making vague hand gestures that somehow alluded to the suggestion of having sex.

"No," Kensei rasped. Through his coughing, he heard Lisa's mumbled "Bullshit."

"But she definitely owes me now." If Mashiro heard, she gave no indication.


	16. Another Way to Die

A/N: Hello again to you all! I survived another week to bring you updated ficcy goodness. :D Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, CaribbeanPrincess07 (you're too sweet, my dear), BLeach Rulez, piper (yeah, I thought of that, too), and Valentine'sNinja.

Never mind me losing control of the story; I've officially gone batshit for writing this.

* * *

Finding themselves in the Meeting Hall for the second time in a month was less unnerving as the first visit had been. As Ukitake waited patiently for his guests to receive their tea, Kensei idly wondered if the Captains' Meetings were anything like these campfire-style get-togethers to which Ukitake had been calling them. After exchanging pleasantries and receiving inquiries to his health, Ukitake brought up the order of business.

"After much consideration and additional research, we've concluded that Urahara Kisuke's Hollowification research may actually be beneficial, not harmful, to Soul Society and the Gotei in particular."

Those words lingered in everyone's ears as he continued to explain the agenda, often citing Ichigo and the Vizards' performances in the war as examples. Though he occasionally strayed off the path, he easily nudged himself back on track. It didn't matter how many times he became distracted; the Vizards were hanging onto his every word. Anxious to get to the point, however, Shinji prompted him. "So, what are you gettin' at?" Ukitake wouldn't have called them just to waste their time. He had a proposition; Shinji could _smell _it in the room.

Sighing in apology for perhaps rambling too much, Ukitake smiled. "Yes, of course." He sipped his tea to wet his parched throat before continuing. "Much like the Kidou Corps and Onmitsukidou, the Gotei is interested in having another affiliate branch within Soul Society. I hope I have illustrated what we think would be the benefits of establishing a Vizard special combat unit, and that by perfecting the _transformation_ and training, the unit could and would grow."

Everyone exchanged glances of mixed emotions and shared sentiments. "And . . . you want us . . . " Love uttered, not quite sure he was getting the gist of Ukitake's words. The man nodded silently.

"Yes; the nine of you," he gestured to Ichigo, who was sitting at his side, listening with just as much disbelief as the rest, "would be responsible for the formation and leadership of such a unit." He paused, looking down in thought for a moment. "The Academy might also need another Advanced Hakuda instructor, of course, for this purpose." He looked up with a lighter look on his face. "Hey, any of you wanna be a teacher?" He laughed, a dry, almost strangled sound, yet full of mirth. Several in the room echoed his sound, but before the laughter died out and the gravity of the proposition had time to settle in, he continued on another thread. "Take your time to think about and discuss this. With the absence of a central government right now, we have a little more freedom to make decisions like these as we see fit. And the King . . . he's allowing us to do so, with the reassurance that the governing body of Soul Society will be more progressive than in the past."

At last he rose from the floor, with Ichigo's gracious help, and he announced, "we have made accommodations for you, should you desire to stay this time. And I sincerely do invite you to stay for as long as you wish. Perhaps we can all decide together within a few days?" He didn't expect an answer to the question; instead, he dismissed them to do whatever they would, whether it be to visit old friends, to go get drunk in Rukongai, or to return to the Living World.

Kensei, who'd already planned to spend a few days here, expressed his appreciation but declined the offer in favor of staying with his parents. His friends automatically assumed that these plans would include Mashiro, and to his surprise, no one else was averse to the idea of staying for a day or two. That is to say, no one said they wouldn't stay. Apparently there were still conflicting emotions, especially within Lisa and Hiyori, but slowly everyone was warming to the idea of returning to Soul Society – if not permanently, then at least occasionally.

"Head Captain Ukitake, do you mind if we stay in here for a while, so we can discuss your proposition?" Shinji asked, determined to take care of as much business as possible before Kensei, Mashiro, and Lisa ran off, as he knew they would. He granted them leave and excused himself to take care of some business within the Division.

Calling everyone together, Shinji had to make it a point to include Ichigo. The kid was overwhelmed, not sure how to feel about being asked to permanently join the ranks of Soul Society. The rest of the Vizards could pretty well identify. "Okay kids, here's the deal," Shinji said once all eyes were on him. "This is big. Like, really big." Lisa snorted. "One at a time, tell me what you think." He looked to Hiyori at his right, signaling for her to start the circle.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes.

Rose flipped his hair. "Same."

Love shrugged.

Hachi bowed his head and offered, "It's an interesting offer that needs serious consideration."

Kensei shrugged but added, "I'll have to think about it."

Mashiro smiled. "It'd give us something to do."

Lisa echoed Mashiro's sentiments but added, "But do we really wanna come back here?"

Ichigo, still dumbfounded, stuttered something about school and a real life, and how would that work if he died? Would he end up right back in Soul Society, or would he be reincarnated on Earth? But it would be really cool . . .

Shinji laughed at Ichigo's babbling. "Whatever. Just make sure to get a signed permission slip from Daddy-san." This brought some laughter from the group, despite earning them Ichigo's death stare.

"I think we should seriously consider this. Ukitake never said anything about us all havin' to agree. Now, I hope we can all come to the same decision together, no matter what we decide, but if that's not the case, then so be it." Shinji rarely revealed his personal intentions or desires as a leader, but one thing became clear to his fellow Vizards: he was hellbent on taking this opportunity, for whatever motive. That motive, Kensei suspected, was the same that was driving Mashiro, Lisa, and Hachi (as he'd expressed before). The Vizards really had no purpose, nothing to do, nothing to fight for. Ukitake was offering them the chance to make a place in the world for themselves.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Mashiro gently tugging on his arm. "Kensei, I'm hungry," she said in a tiny voice.

"Okay," he mumbled as he returned his attention to Shinji, who was presently asking everyone how long they planned to stay. Just then, Shinji asked him. "I was planning to stay at least two days, maybe three".

Mashiro interrupted him with a whine. "I'm _really_ hungry, Kensei."

"Okay, Mashiro." He snapped his head back around to Shinji. "Between visiting family and friends, it'll take me at least that long. East Rukongai, Ninth, and the Academy?" Shinji scoffed at the distance among the three places. "Yeah. We'll be here a while."

"KENSEI. I'm huuuungry!" She protested with a stamp of her foot.

"DAMMIT MASHIRO. I HEAR YOU," he yelled, causing her to whine even more. "Guys, I've gotta get outta here. If I don't feed her now, it's gonna be one hell of a long walk to the East Gate."

They waved to him, not envying him his lot, and Shinji called out to him, "Meet me here in three days, yeah?" Kensei acknowledged and allowed Mashiro to drag him to the nearest takoyaki stand.


	17. Hard to See

A/N: Hello hello! To everyone who had exams recently, I hope they went swimmingly for you! Terribly sorry for distracting you from studying. ^_^;; Shout outs go to CaribbeanPrincess07, Ayase Reincarnated, BLeach Rulez, ThatBanana (most epic name, anon!), Candy1243, Constellation of Glory, and Heaven's Cataract. You guys are *waaaay* ahead of me on wondering about this teacher thing. I mean, I sort of had ideas on where to take that, but I didn't think you'd actually pay attention to it. Thanks, now I've got to pull something out of my ass later on in the story. XD

As I parted from my favorite exchange student at the airport, he said to me, "Freunde sind wie Sterne, man sieht sie nicht immer, aber sind sie immer für dich da." [Friends are like the stars, you can't always see them, but they're always there for you.] It's always stayed with me as one of the more important things anyone has ever said to me (and we're still friends, btw, after 8 years). The idea occasionally manifests in my writing in one form or another, and here, it seemed appropriate.

* * *

He hadn't remembered that today was his sister's birthday. What luck! If anything, it saved him the trip to the fifteenth district. His mother had seen to it, immediately upon their arrival, that they dressed in appropriate attire for the celebration. If he thought wearing modern clothes for the first time was strange, then wearing hakama again after seventy years was definitely weird. And Mashiro . . . she looked like she'd go crazy, lost in all the extra fabric of her borrowed houmongi. He was amused that his mother hadn't persuaded her to abandon her scarf and goggles; despite this, she looked . . . beautiful. Yeah, that was the word.

Isao and Masa, apparently his new 'brothers,' were little demons. Equivalent in age to Ichigo, but they were nowhere near Ichigo's level of respect for others. He'd have to come back to stay for good, just to teach these little punks some manners. It was hard not to slip into the old Captain Muguruma routine with these two wreaking havoc all around the house, so he just went with it and barked orders and reprimands at them as often as required. He could see the silent gratitude in his mother's eyes, so that made it all worth the headache he was getting from yelling. Apparently the third kid, Emi, was unable to leave the Academy for the occasion. Well, if she'd made it into the Academy, she had to be better than the other two, so he'd definitely make it a point to visit her. It might be nice to have an adopted sibling that he didn't have to train in the ways of how not to be a piece of shit.

The reunion with his sister, however, was tearful. Kayo was always an important person to him, and he wasn't a single bit ashamed of his watery eyes when she announced that he was the best birthday gift she'd ever received. Kensei also met his brother-in-law for the first time, Maruyama Tadashi. He was a soft-spoken man with sizeable reiatsu – he probably missed his calling by not becoming shinigami. Well, his whole family had quite noticeable reiatsu, he had just been the only one ambitious enough to do something with it.

Kayo was busy squealing over 'Kuna-saaaaan' while Tadashi introduced Kensei to his nephew, Takao. Kensei was renowned for his abysmal skills with children, so it was no wonder when he held the infant out at arms' length as he cooed happily at his uncle. When Mashiro caught sight of Kensei holding the poor child out in front of him, her eyes glazed over.

"Kensei, introduce Kuna-san to him!" Kayo squeaked impatiently. _Oh for fuck's sake,_ this was going to be bad. This was going to be so irreversibly bad . . .

Kensei turned around and held the kicking, cooing infant out to Mashiro. "This is Takao," he offered. "Here." Mashiro instantly took the infant into her arms, cradling him surprisingly gently, and cooed sweetly. Rocking him, she looked so at ease, so natural. Kayo laughed.

"She's really enjoying herself, huh? A real natural at this." She nudged her brother playfully in the ribs.

"She should be. They speak the same language, after all." This earned him a look that said she wanted to laugh but would feel guilty if she did.

"You two settled down yet?"

Kensei had the grace to look put-out. "Whadda ya mean by that?"

Kayo smiled knowingly. "Like we didn't know what was going on back then. Come on, Kensei. Anyone with half a brain knew there was something between you two."

He sighed. "Well, there wasn't." He wavered, unsure if he should add fuel to the fire so voluntarily. "But we're working on it." Ha, there. It was out in the open. That wasn't so bad. He felt better already.

Kayo might have made another jab at her brother, but Mashiro looked pointedly at Kensei, a particular sparkle in her eye that warned Kensei of his impending doom. "No," he said firmly before she even had the chance to say anything.

Choosing not to embarrass herself today, she left it at that. How did he know she was going to say it again? Did he even realize that she really meant it? She tried to not look hurt, instead focusing all her attention on Takao.

Kayo looked between Mashiro and her brother and quickly ascertained what they did not say. She smiled sadly, in sympathy for Mashiro, and gently reprimanded her brother. "You shouldn't be so quick to dismiss her. Consider it an honor that she chose you, and a blessing if it ever happens." With that, Kayo was floating around the room, which was quickly crowding with friends from the neighborhood. Kensei watched as Mashiro approached Tadashi and gently passed Takao back to his father before quickly walking out of the room. _Oh shit_, he'd really done it this time.

He followed her, but his search was in vain. She was purposely masking her reiatsu so he couldn't find her.

"Kuna-saaaan," Kayo whined as she bumped into the green-haired girl in the long hallway. "Come with me." She took Mashiro by the hand and pulled her into an auxiliary room, where she could see that Mashiro was bravely trying not to cry. Wrapping her arms around the girl, Kayo whispered to her.

"It's okay if you cry at my party," she laughed before continuing. "My brother can be such a jerk sometimes, huh, Kuna-san?" She already felt the dampness of her houmongi's shoulder. Well, at least Mashiro was quiet when she cried. "Listen, he's pretty insensitive sometimes, but he doesn't mean it. He really loves you; I know he does, and one day soon, you'll both want the same things. It takes time, but your lives will blend seamlessly."

Despite herself, Mashiro laughed, a short, halting sound as she tried to hold back the tears. "Stupid Kensei."

"Just keep reminding him of that," Kayo laughed. "Kuna-san, I wish for you to have ten children, not only for your happiness but to spite my brother's idiot attitude." Mashiro finally returned her embrace as Kayo continued. "I left him with some words to consider, so don't worry. He's always listened to me. Honestly, you'd think I was his big sister."

Pulling back, Kayo studied Mashiro for a minute. "I should go back, Kuna-san. You can stay here for a while to collect yourself, if you'd like."

Mashiro nodded, then added thoughtfully, "You can call me Mashiro, if you want."

Kayo swept her up in another embrace with a squeal. "I'll call you Nee-chan!" Releasing the now-breathless Mashiro, she made for the door. "Take your time, okay? I won't let him bother you until you feel better."

Closing the door behind her, she rushed back to the party, hoping to enjoy herself while also running damage control for her brother's relationship. As she rejoined her guests, Kensei immediately approached her, grabbing her shoulder gently.

"Where is she?"

Kayo gestured across the room where two women were talking. "Mom's over there with Saito-san."

Kensei tried not to smack his forehead. "Not Mom, genius. Mashiro. She's hiding from me."

"Can't say that I blame her," Kayo retorted as she rolled her eyes. "But anyway, I haven't seen her."

Kensei's grip on her shoulder tightened noticeably. "You've always been a bad liar." His thumb pressed firmly into the wet spot on her shoulder.

"Third door on the right," she sighed and sent a silent apology to Mashiro.

When he stormed into the room where Kayo had said Mashiro would be, he was actually relieved that she hadn't lied a second time. Mashiro was sitting on a bench by the window, looking out on dusk. She didn't even bother looking at him when he entered. Reconsidering his attitude, he quietly closed the door behind him and slowly walked to her side. He stood there for a moment, also staring out the window as he tried to form words.

"Mashiro. I..."

"Look, Kensei. Stars. I almost forgot what they looked like." She was pointing at the sky, gaze never leaving it. He sighed as he knelt down next to her. Leaning his forehead on her shoulder, he spent half a second beating himself up, until he felt her arm wrap around him. Her tiny hand cupped the back of his head lightly. "Aren't you gonna look?"

As he turned his head to answer her request, she met his gaze. He felt her hand come to rest on his shoulder. "Even though I can't always see the stars in Karakura Town, I always know they're up there." She smiled and looked back at the darkening sky. "But it sure is nice to see 'em."

Kensei hummed in understanding and wrapped his arms around her waist. If only moments like this could last forever . . .


	18. A Place Where You Belong

A/N: Early update yay! Today is the first day of winter, and I'm so full of the Christmas Spirit! So, since I'm in the giving mood... :D Be on the lookout for a special holiday chapter on Friday (hope I can finish it in time!). Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, BLeach Rulez, CaribbeanPrincess07, piper, ThatBanana, LET. IT. OUT (I feel like I'm shouting at you for reals), and Misery Lotus.

I apologize for the OOCness ahead. It should disappear shortly.

* * *

Several things from the previous night continued to confound Kensei.

For starters, he'd screwed up. Pretty bad. He probably even deserved for Mashiro to have a tantrum right then and there to embarrass the shit out of him. Instead, she'd reacted uncharacteristically civilly, leaving him worrying about just how bad he'd messed up. Kayo hadn't helped matters; she made him feel like a Grade A Piece of Shit, and probably rightfully so. And the most bizarre part was that Mashiro forgave him before he could even apologize. It wasn't as though he didn't try, however.

Then . . . and then, she waxed poetic about fucking _stars_, in what he was certain was an analogy for his inability to show his love. Could have been dumb luck, could have . . . that she just happened to say idiotic words in which he could find meaning. Knowing her, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, but the timing was too damn perfect.

And today . . . she'd been demure and charming. He'd never seen this side of her before, like she was trying to put on a show for his sake.

He missed _his_ Mashiro. The annoying, asinine girl who drove him out of his mind with her whining. The one who was bubbly and silly and . . . he was grasping here. He was trying every trick in the book to get her riled up, but to no avail. Until lunchtime came around, that is. He should have known that the one thing he could always count on was for Mashiro to become grumpy and whiny when she was hungry. No amount of acting could have covered that. He was silently thankful but still resolved to keep her on her toes. This well-mannered and thoughtful shit just wasn't like her. Was she depressed? Must have been, because she was starting to depress him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard his old friend Kazaki talking about the sexually explicit sure-fire remedy for a woman's depression. Ah, he really missed that guy.

Being here, in Soul Society, in Rukongai, in his family's home, and with Mashiro, and wearing 'normal' clothing, forgetting the Living World and the last hundred years was almost easy. He'd always been pretty inflexible and resistant to change, but he had also learned the importance of taking certain things in stride. This wasn't a change so much as it was a reversion to the old ways, and that he could handle. He hadn't wanted his life to change so suddenly and violently, and now things were simply drifting back into place.

Almost. He still had that feeling like the pieces didn't quite fit together the way they had, but that was because the pieces had changed, and in trying to put them back where they belonged, he was quickly discovering that they fit somewhere else. Mashiro had been his lieutenant, and now she was his girlfriend . . . or something. Kayo had been his baby sister, and now she was a wife and mother. The Gotei had been his lifeblood, and now it was a distant memory. Soul Society had been his home, and now it was a place he could only visit at his leisure. His Division had been his heart, and now it was an armchair wish. Being a Vizard had been a crime, and now Soul Society accepted it. His whole life had been turned on its head, and he was the hapless victim of fate, trying to turn everything around to make sense of it all.

He'd never felt such a loss of control in his life. Foolish was the thought that he could control everything that happened around him and in his absence, and for once, he really didn't want to be a fool. Perhaps he could take a lesson from Mashiro. That girl seemed oblivious to everything, but he knew better. Nothing escaped her notice or consideration, but she was incredible in the fact that she simply didn't care. She marched on, doing whatever she wanted without letting other things interfere. If she did encounter interference, she simply tackled it head-on and kept going, while he'd been content to sit on the sidelines and call all the shots, making sure he had absolute power over everything life threw at him. When things didn't go his way, he admittedly had a hard time coping with it and getting past it. Were they that self-absorbed? He admitted that, yes, they were; but when it came to each other, that had to change somewhere. _Ugh,_ that word _'change'_ again. Was he so rigid that he was unwilling to compromise a little for her sake? No, _anything_ for her.

Anything for her.

* * *

When Kensei awoke, the sun had already risen. He cursed loudly, not caring who should hear. Dressing quickly and putting Tachikaze in his pocket, he snatched up his boots and carried them with him to the dining room.

He found Mashiro and his mother drinking tea and talking softly. That bothered him, Mashiro alone with his mother. It was a terrifying thought, in fact. There was no telling what they'd talked about. More importantly, why hadn't either bothered waking him? Mashiro _knew _he was trying to keep a tight schedule today. Scowling, he sat at the table, and his mother promptly poured tea for him. She made light conversation with him, expressing her sorrow that they would be leaving so soon.

Apologizing and reiterating his promise to return often, he added his irritation that no one had woken him.

"We wanted to let the boys sleep in a little," his mother said with a wink. It was true, his father was nowhere to be seen nor Isao and Masa to be heard. He knew his father was an early riser, however, and would shortly make an appearance. He only just now realized that Mashiro was awake at an untimely hour and wondered at it. Looking at her eyes, he could tell she'd had trouble sleeping. He didn't have time to guess why, though, as his mother derailed that train.

"I know you have to leave soon, so I'll go wake Kazuma. You'll stay for breakfast, right?" She smiled, her tired eyes drooping with the action. He nodded as she rose from the table and exited the room quietly.

With her safely out of earshot, Kensei began talking, trying to soothe the shadow in the back of his mind. "We'll skip visiting the Division this time. The Academy's closer to the First. We can't keep Shinji waiting too long." His tea sloshed dangerously as he rolled his cup between anxious hands. Mashiro only hummed in response. "Are you okay?"

She looked up and smiled weakly. "Of course." She was lying; he knew Mashiro, and he knew that was a lie.

"You've been . . . you haven't seemed like yourself the last few days."

She only shrugged and sipped quietly at her tea.

"I know I'm an idiot, Mashiro. And right about now, I'd give anything to hear you say it to me."

She still wasn't rising to the bait; she appeared thoroughly unfazed by his admission. Setting her cup down on the table, she turned glassy eyes to him. "I'm the idiot, stupid Kensei. I don't belong here, with you."

If his heart had been pounding unnecessarily fast before, it stopped when she said those words. No, this wasn't . . . that chasm was opening up. He had to leap across before it got too wide. "You don't belong anywhere but with me," he defended quickly. "Don't be stupid. Though I do realize that's like telling you not to breathe."

Indignation flashed in her eyes before it settled into resignation. "I know. You deserve someone so much better than me. Someone _normal_." Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I don't fit in with you and your family."

"You really are stupid. My family loves you; they always have. Kayo adores you, and Mom used to give me a hard time for the things I'd say about you, how you were so annoying and lazy. But I love that annoying and lazy Mashiro." He paused, realizing what he'd just admitted. "You drive me insane, and you constantly piss me off, but that's why I love you. You're a goddamn challenge every day." His voice broke in a short, sarcastic laugh. "There is no Muguruma Kensei without Kuna Mashiro. She makes him the man he is. So quit yer bitchin' and cheer up. Damn."

He tried to escape her gaze by concentrating on finishing his tea. Tachikaze congratulated him on saving face when Mashiro wiped away the stray tears that had managed to escape her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was thick with the unshed tears that she was holding back. "I love Kensei-meanie, too." She laughed through the tears, a sound both helpless and hopeful. A sound at the door prompted her to furiously scrub the water from her eyes.

If his parents had overheard the exchange, they made no hint or suggestion during breakfast. When they departed at the front gate, Kensei's father took in a deep breath through his nose. "Nothing like the fresh morning air!" His voice boomed merrily as he looked at the sky. "Take in a deep breath, Mashiro-chan!" She mocked his actions, exhaling and stretching with a contented sigh. Smiling, she grabbed Kensei's arm and tugged him away. "C'mon! Let's race to the Gate!" she cried happily, and as they waved to the Muguruma family, they turned back and fell into a run through Rukongai.

* * *

Shinji met them when they entered the First Division compound, frown replacing his usual grin. "'Bout time," he said with mock impatience. "Can't believe how long I've been here."

Mashiro looked surprised. "Wow, Shinjiii! Has it been that bad? We really had fun! There was even a party! You should have come with us!"

Shinji laughed, his grin returning with ease. "A party, huh? And y'all didn't invite me?" He waved it off. "Maybe next time, right? Anyway, it hasn't been _that_ bad around here. It's been so good, in fact, that no one has left yet." His words carried the appropriate amount of connotation to raise Kensei's eyebrow.

"Sounds like the naysayers are having a change of heart," Kensei intoned. "What do you think about it?"

Shinji's face reflected feigned arrogance. "Whatever," he said in a noncommittal tone. "I'm just glad everyone's workin' past all the bad stuff."

"No, really," Kensei argued. "How do you feel about being back here? You can take that mask off any time. You don't have to keep being neutral for everyone's sakes." Though he admired Shinji's approach to leadership, they did have different ideals in this respect. They'd both been captains in command of their own divisions; not intervening was sometimes difficult, especially with Kensei's control issues.

His face turned dark. "No, I don't much like being here," he forced out through his set jaw, "but I'm adjustin' pretty well, same as the others." His face lightened. "I gotta give Mashiro credit, though," he said as he looked on her with fondness. "We really don't have anything to do, and coming back here might be for the best."

Satisfied that he'd got Shinji to speak his mind, Kensei dropped his hand to Mashiro's shoulder, letting the tension fall from his body. "We've mostly decided that we're for this idea." He didn't bother mentioning his as-of-late consideration to return to Soul Society permanently, whether he was in Seireitei or Rukongai.

Shinji nodded at Kensei's notion. "Yeah, me too. Crazy as that sounds."

Mashiro squealed. "We're gonna kick Hollow butt again!" She started jumping around, throwing punches and kicks into the air. Shinji laughed as he watched her.

"You've got my vote for Captain," Kensei said casually, though there was a certain finality and surrender in his voice that seemed to make their decision a reality. Clapping him on the shoulder, Shinji nodded knowingly, seriously, then grinned.

"So, you still got business around here?"

Realization dawned on Kensei's face. "Oh yeah, is Ukitake busy? We kinda need an escort to the Academy."


	19. Christmas Eve in Seireitei

A/N: Whew! Barely made it! Whether you've recently been celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Muharram, Yule, or just like candy canes and waiting for the Jolly Old Fat Man to bring presents, I hope you're having a wonderful holiday season! My Christmas tree is decorated with Susuwatari (Makkuro Kurosuke... yanno, soot sprites?) this year (yeah, I really am that big of a nerd). :D This bonus chapter goes out to equitablyinjust, who requested to see how much fun Kensei could have with a few sugar plum fairies. Equitablyinjust, my dear, you've been an indispensable source of helpful criticism and encouragement throughout this story. It is an honor to write for you. Hope you enjoy! *heart*

(P.S. This, like the Halloween chapter, is future-set. Way future set. Consider this as an epilogue before the story's even over. Lucky you!)

* * *

Mashiro insisted they observe Christmas, and Kensei understood why the holiday held such importance to her. Well, it wasn't so much important as it was alluring. All the _pretty lights_ and _sparkly things_ and candy... God, the sugar rushes that woman had been on. They'd sort of celebrated Christmas every year since it gained commercial success in Japan, so he knew he couldn't dissuade her from the tradition.

Admittedly, Christmastime was more fun for him now that his little Botan was in the world. Her innocence and wide-eyed wonder at everything warmed him even on the bitterest winter day. Mashiro and Botan were his whole world, even if he died a little on the inside each time he realized that mother and daughter grew more alike as time passed. He didn't mind taking time away from work to be with them for the occasion, and he in fact loved spoiling the shit out of them with mountains of gifts. If only he could just hide all the candy...

When Kensei came home on Christmas Eve, Mashiro and Botan greeted him with flour-dusted faces. He smelled chocolate. Chocolate? Yep, definitely. Botan ran into his arms and held tightly to his neck. After she planted a wet kiss on his cheek, he wiped the flour from her face. "You're a mess. What trouble you makin' now?"

"Not makin' trouble, Daddy!" The little girl huffed indignantly. "Makin' cookies for you!"

Mashiro couldn't even cook rice. This was going to be bad. Really, really bad. Laughing, he set his daughter down and, dusting the flour from Mashiro's nose, kissed his wife in greeting.

"I'm so glad she's old enough to enjoy these things now," Mashiro cooed as Botan ran back into the kitchen.

"Let me guess," he snorted, "_she's_ teaching _you_ how to cook, isn't she?" He relaxed at the kotatsu table and warmed himself from the walk home.

Stamping her foot, Mashiro let out an indignant cry. "That's no fair, Kensei! So mean to me! She's only five!"

He cut his eyes to her with a knowing smirk. "I'm right, aren't I?"

She wailed. "It's true! My brilliant Botan is a genius, just like her daddy!" He laughed at the irony; while he thought Botan displayed Mashiro's qualities (and not always the best ones), Mashiro apparently observed in their daughter some of his traits, though he'd like to know which ones. He'd hardly call himself a genius, and it was the first time he'd ever heard it from Mashiro.

"They're done!" they heard the sweet voice singsong from the kitchen. "Mommy, can you help me? They're really hot."

Mashiro disappeared into the kitchen, and Kensei poured himself a cup of tea as he listened to mother and daughter giggling. After a while, he stopped paying attention, but it wasn't until he noticed the silence that he realized how long they'd been absent. He called out to them but received no reply. Peeking into the kitchen, he discovered them sitting on a freshly-cleaned counter and eating chocolate chip cookies.

Mashiro whipped her head around. "Oh, Kensei, we saved you one!" She proffered a plate occupied by a lone cookie. To be fair, he didn't like sweets, and she knew this, but _his little girl_ baked those cookies for _him_. He was hoping to get more than one. Well, hell, at least he was getting that many. Snatching the still-warm confection off the plate, he all but devoured it in one bite, for fear that Mashiro might change her mind and try to pilfer it at the last second. Wouldn't be the first time she literally stole the food from his mouth.

Ah, now here was a reminder of why one shouldn't be hasty. He coughed as the shards of cookie dragged down his throat... or were those shards of his teeth?

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Botan apologized with a sad, chocolate-smeared face. "I wanted to save more for you, but they were so good!" He cringed mentally as he heartily agreed with her. In this moment, he realized his inescapable fate as family chef for years to come. In no mood to suffer through more of Mashiro's culinary disasters, he took it upon himself to cook dinner. He thoroughly hoped the meal would balance out their high sugar intake, but he should have known that cause was always beyond hope.

"Let's play the Tu-Tu-Ru game!" Mashiro announced promptly after dinner, and Botan answered gleefully. Though Kensei almost never understood a single nonsensical word she uttered, he knew the exact game to which she referred. It always started out innocently (and annoyingly), but it inevitably ended with someone getting a concussion, a black eye, or as in one instance, a broken arm. It never failed that, due to lingering chivalry and guilty consciences, the guys lost to the girls. Lisa was a pro at the game, Hiyori enjoyed beating the living hell out of Shinji and Hachi, and as much as he wanted to suffocate her in her sleep sometimes, Kensei would take the beating Mashiro doled out, both chagrined and disturbed that she enjoyed it so much.

Botan hopped around as she followed Mashiro into the living room, and Kensei listened as he cleaned up the kitchen.

"What is the Tu-Tu-Ru game? I don't know it!" Botan was talking a mile a minute, which elicited a groan from her father. Wasn't it close to someone's bedtime?

"Here, okay," he heard Mashiro say. Then came that grating hollow echoing of her shouting through a cardboard tube, a soft hollow thump, and giggling. "You're it!" He watched as Mashiro tore off across the living room with Botan chasing her, both wielding the cardboard tubes left over from the wrapping paper. He was hoping they'd wear themselves out, but after hearing "You're it!" for the hundredth time, he knew he'd have to end the game somehow. Damn, but he didn't feel like getting the shit beat out of him with a cardboard tube. At least Botan would go easy on him. Maybe. Leaving his kitchen refuge, he picked up a tube, his sudden presence drawing attention.

"Are you gonna play too, Daddy?"

Grinning, he issued a challenge: "Catch me if you can!" Speed was Mashiro's advantage, but he hoped that she would bow out and let Botan have all the fun; at least then he'd be spared a sound beating. Up the stairs and down the stairs, through the kitchen and back to the living room, where Mashiro cornered him. Botan unleashed her full, harmless fury on his legs and tackled him to the floor.

"Caught you, Daddy!" she chirped as she jumped onto his stomach.

Laughing through his groan, "So you did! You win!" He lifted her as he came to his feet again, and he noticed Mashiro looking distractedly out the window, barely holding onto her cardboard club with fingers that had forgotten their task. "What is it?" Dark suspicion sounded in his voice as he approached.

"It's... It's snowing!" She turned to him with wide, gleeful eyes. Oh _shit._ She jumped in place, vocalizing her delight with ridiculously high-pitched squealing that would make him go deaf in a few more years. Botan started squirming in his arms, wanting to see what had her mommy so excited. He set her down, and she ran immediately to the window, standing on her toes to see over the sill.

"Wow! So pretty! Look, Daddy!" She pointed enthusiastically and insisted he look until he finally came over and knelt down behind her. "I wanna go play outside!" As she tore off for the door, he hooked his fingers into the back of her obi and held her in place.

"Don't think so, kiddo." He pulled her to him as she fidgeted, trying to break free from his grasp.

"No fair, Daddy!" she whined, and Mashiro echoed the cry with a stamp of her foot.

"C'mon, Kensei! Let's go outside and play!" He cut his eyes to her with a meaningful glance that silenced her, even if she still was pouting.

"It's dark outside, Botan, and it's cold. You can't just run out there without your shoes and coat. You'll get sick, and then you won't get to open presents in the morning." He held her in his protective embrace and tugged gently on her lower lip that she had stuck out so far. "You'll trip on that if you're not careful." She pouted even more.

"Daddy's right, Botan. We'll go outside and play tomorrow, okay?" Mashiro offered as she knelt down beside them. She brushed aside the long silver hair that had come loose from the little girl's pigtails as she smiled. "There will be even more snow in the morning, and we can build a snowman and –."

"And have a snowball fight with Daddy!"

"Of course!" Mother and daughter giggled, and Kensei cringed. He really detested being outnumbered in his own house. He would insist that he and Mashiro promptly begin work on a son, but he feared the prospect of another child just like her.

Now cheered, Botan (and Mashiro, for that matter) showed no signs of slowing. "Daddy, can I wrap you up?"

Oh, good God, where was this going? "Why would you want to do that?"

She threw her arms around his neck. "I wanna open you for Christmas! You'd be the best present ever!"

...And there went the layer of ice around his heart.

"I'll get the leftover paper!" Mashiro jumped to her feet, Botan on her heels along the way. "And we'll need lots of ribbon," she singsonged, her glee inciting instant nausea. He submitted himself to letting Botan and Mashiro cocoon him in gaudy and disgustingly festive paper, but he started getting nervous when Mashiro started tightly wrapping the ribbon around his legs.

"Hey, Mashiro," he whispered as he squirmed, "you know I enjoy you tying me up and all, but don't forget to untie me this time, okay?" She gave him a look that could and probably would kill. "Just sayin'."

Once the gift-wrapped Kensei was tied and nestled under the tree with the other gifts, mother and daughter sat at the kotatsu table and admired their handiwork. "Something's missing," Mashiro said at last.

"The bow!" Botan shouted in epiphany. Crawling over, she took up a scrap of red ribbon and, wrapping it around Kensei's head, tied a bow right in the middle of his forehead. If he didn't love his daughter so much, he'd really hate her right now. She giggled. "There! Now I can open you in the morning!"

He groaned inwardly. "Aw, do I have to wait that long? You can open me now, if you want!" He squirmed again to emphasize his point. This was humiliating.

"No, I can wait," she grinned as she crawled back to the kotatsu table and curled up under the blanket. Ah, finally she was getting sleepy. He hoped, at least. "Mommy, tell me that story about Santa Claus!" He choked back the scream forming in his throat. A fate worse than death: all tied up and subject to Mashiro's storytelling.

"Daddy's a much better storyteller than me," she said tactfully, surprising Kensei and filling him with hope that his torture would end. "If you unwrap him and ask nicely, he might tell you the story."

"Really, Daddy?" She sat up and gave him the whole sparkly-eyes and shit-eating grin number. He hummed sweetly in response and wriggled in his cocoon again. Anything to get out of this red and green nightmare. She crawled back to him and looked down at him warily. "You promise to tell me the story?"

"Have I ever let you down?" She smiled brightly and at once began untying the restrictive ribbons. He hoped she could always feel that way about him.

Freed from Christmas bondage hell, he relaxed once again at the kotatsu table with Botan in his lap and Mashiro at his side. He recited that old poem as best he could from memory, and with help from his dynamic duo, the house was infested with koalas instead of mice, and Santa's sleigh was now drawn by kangaroos. He didn't argue and only laughed through the mad lib mockery of tradition, and Botan was asleep before it was over.

Mashiro laid down on the thick, warm mat in a drowsy stupor. "Lay her down here," she whispered to Kensei. "She'll wake up if we move her around too much."

He eased the tiny form onto the mat next to Mashiro. "You're not coming to bed?"

She shook her head and curled around Botan to keep her warm. Sighing, Kensei leaned over carefully and kissed Mashiro and Botan in turn before settling in next to them. He put his arm over them both and closed his eyes, relishing the silence. In retrospect, the cookie-bricks, cardboard tube beating, paper cocoon, and kangaroo-drawn sleigh weren't so bad, maybe great traditions to keep until she got a little older and (hopefully) grew out of all that nonsense. Nevertheless, he mentally prepared himself for the upcoming snowball fight, knowing it was inevitable that he would get a handful of snow right down the front of his pants, courtesy of Mashiro, and if the day was anything like tonight had been, he'd probably be the lucky one to have a snowman built around him. Nah, he'd call in for reinforcements. He could always count on Shinji to get his back, even if it was a snowball fight.

As he drifted off to sleep, he heard a sound that he'd recall in the morning and swear to himself that it sounded suspiciously like sleigh bells and kangaroos on the roof.

Alright, he'd finally lost it.


	20. Just Like You

A/N: I regret to announce that I must take a two-week hiatus. :c I have some things to catch up on, so this is the last update until January 14. But don't worry! There's still plenty to come; this story should wrap up (if I planned it right) on Mashiro's birthday. :D Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, ThatBanana, purple .iirse, Syco's Path, equitablyinjust, CaribbeanPrincess07, BeatenWithJoy, and OneAcquaintedWithTheNight.

Many of you will think Emi is a Mary Sue. And you would be right. Fortunately, she's only in here for illustrative purposes and is great fodder for eyerolling on Kensei's part. Also, this is kind of more filler leading into better stuff. I promise. Much better.

"Speak softly and carry a big stick." Ah, the true beginning of Machiavellianism in modern American diplomacy. Teddy Roosevelt attributed the line to a West African proverb. Wherever it originated, it's genius.

* * *

When Head Captain Ukitake quietly strolled into the Hakuda training room with two strangers in tow, the class automatically halted. The instructor barked at them to continue and then greeted his visitors. Ukitake returned the greeting with a smile.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your class, Nakajima-san, but we're looking for student Muguruma Emi. Is she present?"

Nakajima grew nervous then, if not for his sake but his student's sake. Was she in trouble? She was such a good kid; he hoped she hadn't done something terrible to warrant the Head Captain of the Gotei to search for her. He nodded weakly, swallowing hard as he turned back to his class. "Muguruma!"

The girl looked up then, her attention captured by her instructor's sharp cry. Understanding the command, she immediately disengaged from her sparring partner and obediently came over. Kensei gave her an appraising look as she crossed the room. She was a short, healthy looking girl, not much older than Isao and Masa. Tendrils of her light hair clung to her sweat-slicked forehead, and she was panting heavily. She bowed slightly. "Nakajima-sensei." Her words were brisk. Coming out of the bow, she noticed Ukitake and at once bowed again, quickly, much lower. "Head Captain Ukitake, sir!"

Ukitake laughed and greeted her familiarly, as though he'd known her forever. While unlikely that they'd met before, Ukitake generally greeted everyone that way. "Might we borrow her for a moment, Nakajima-san?"

He nodded consent, though she didn't see the action, and as she came up out of her bow, her eyes fell to Kensei. Her eyes grew wide then. "O . . . Onii-sama?"

If he heard her, he gave no reaction. Instead, he was watching Mashiro, who had run off. She was currently showing some boys how to properly execute the moves they'd been practicing. He'd watched her for probably a minute, when he heard Ukitake ask Emi to come with him.

"Oi, Mashiro," Kensei called out. She looked up then and, bidding farewell to her temporary students, ran to Kensei's side. They weren't far behind, arriving in the courtyard just behind Ukitake and Emi.

When Emi saw Kensei again, she approached him hesitantly. "It _is_ you, isn't it, onii-sama?"

Kensei scowled. "Yeah, nice ta meet ya, kid. But drop the formal crap."

She nodded. "S-sorry, onii-san." She was shaking but smiling. It was almost endearing how nervous and excited she appeared to be.

"Emi-chan was just telling me how she wanted to join the Ninth Division," Ukitake chimed in, feeling he might need to give this conversation a nudge.

"That so," Kensei remarked as he crossed his arms over his chest. He really wasn't great with kids, though she was close enough to be considered an adult, and that she was his 'sister,' meeting her for the first time was awkward.

She nodded earnestly. "Yes, I'd like to join the Ninth Division. It is an important place to onii-san, so it is also important to me." Kensei tried not to roll his eyes. "And," she continued, wringing her hands while trying not to break eye contact, "Miyaki-senpai just joined there as well. I visited her last week. The Captain is very nice." A nervous smile split her face.

Miyaki? That name sounded familiar. Oh yeah, that kid Shuuhei had sent to the Tenth. She seemed like a timid, lost thing. If she'd just graduated, then that explained it. Kensei nodded. "Yeah, the Captain's an all right kid. Tell ya what," he continued, hunching over to bring his face down closer to her level, "if you really wanna join the Ninth, how 'bout you go there with me sometime? But I won't recommend you if you're not doing well in the Academy. That kid has a lot of respect for me, so I'd hate to let him down just 'cause you screwed up."

Though his words sounded harsh, her smile grew. "Really? Oh, thank you, onii-san! I promise to work really hard!"

Straightening his back, he looked back to Mashiro then returned his gaze to Emi. "What year are you, anyway?"

She squeaked at the question. "Fifth year, onii-san."

He hummed in consideration but said nothing more. Without prelude, he threw a punch full-force in her direction, which she automatically blocked with unexpected strength. She looked to him with doe eyes, unsure what had just happened or even why.

"You excel in Hakuda, don't you?"

Shyly, she admitted it as truth. "How could you guess?"

His eyes narrowed. "I heard a quote once, something about speaking softly and carrying a big stick." Emi looked confused but listened intently. "There have been very few Masters of Hakuda in the history of Soul Society, but we all started out the same: timid and afraid of fighting."

When Emi said nothing in reply, Kensei sighed. "Mom and Dad think you're going to be a healer. You're good in Kidou?"

She nodded.

"It's not your true calling. When you stop lying to yourself – and Mom and Dad – you'll realize this. You'll lose your fear to fight. You could join Onmitsukidou if you wanted. Don't settle for anything, and don't join the Ninth just because of me or that friend of yours."

"But I _want_ Emi-chan to join the Ninth, Kensei," Mashiro half-whined. She sounded more like she was lost in thought. "If she becomes Lieutenant, I can give her my old armband."

Kensei turned to her, eyebrow twitching. "I thought we burned all that old junk."

"Nope." Mashiro's attention was drawn away to the sky, where she looked around distractedly.

He was all lectured-out, so he was glad that when he turned around, Emi's attention was focused on Mashiro.

"Onee-san . . . ?" Mashiro cut her eyes to the girl. "Onee-san!" Emi captured the unsuspecting Mashiro in a tight embrace. Once she realized what was happening, Mashiro returned the embrace enthusiastically. "I didn't realize it was you!" Emi cried out, happy to at last meet the woman from the many stories she'd heard while growing up.

Upon the implication that Emi knew who Mashiro was, Kensei was left wondering just what his parents had told her. Sometimes, having family was troublesome, but he wouldn't trade them for anything, especially after he'd lived so long without them.

And this Emi kid, she was all right. In Kensei's assessment, he determined that she was smart and alert, and even if she were timid, she wasn't weak. She was . . . just like Mashiro.

He'd met Mashiro during her third year when he was at the Academy scouting for recruits. She'd approached him in awe, expressing her desire to one day be in the Ninth Division. Timid, polite, and holding herself back from her true potential. He recognized it almost immediately. He'd been the same way. He'd lectured her, issuing a challenge to push herself. It was almost the exact lecture he'd just given to Emi. When he was recruiting during Mashiro's sixth year, she had come into her own, a completely different person with new confidence and strength. She'd become annoying, he'd noticed, since emerging from her shell. She then issued a challenge to him that if he recruited her, she'd be his lieutenant within five years, but she succeeded to earn the position in less than two.

He just hoped, for his sake, that she didn't turn out to be as damn annoying as Mashiro.

* * *

"I see," Ukitake said, weighing the information in his mind. His face relaxed. "Very well, then." Smiling, he waved to the gathered Vizards and they prepared to enter the Senkaimon. "We'll be in contact. Please, return often!"

When they'd entered the security and comfort of their warehouse-fortress, Lisa directed a question to the group. "So, when do you think they'll have the new division built?"

Shinji shrugged. "Dunno. The way they do things around there, could be next week, could be next year."

Mashiro hummed. "This is pretty cool, huh guys? We get to stick together, and we'll get to go on missions again." A general agreement, if lacking in enthusiasm, sounded in the room. "So what did you tell Ukitake? He looked so serious." Mashiro had directed the question at Kensei, frowning when she remarked on Ukitake's serious expression.

"Just, uh . . . " He couldn't lie to her, but he'd have to save some of his answer for later. "Told him that Emi is forbidden recruitment."

Mashiro pouted. "That's no fair, Kensei-meanie. You said yourself that she shouldn't settle. If she's really as good as you think, then why not let her join us?" She had the uncanny ability to appear not to pay any attention to the things he said and then use it against him quite well later, a fact that never ceased to vex him.

"Who's Emi?" The question came from Rose.

"My sister," Kensei and Mashiro said in unison, startling them both. He elaborated. "My adopted sister. She's in the Academy right now."

After a chorus of 'oh's and 'ah's, Kensei decided it would be better if they had some privacy to continue the conversation. Once they obtained said privacy, he addressed Mashiro as seriously as he dared, as he unlaced his boots. "About Emi, I want her to aim high, but Mom and Dad would kill me if I let her willingly do something as stupid and harmful as Hollowify. We didn't have a choice, didn't have anyone to protect us from it. If I can protect her, I will. We're going to be a small, elite group, and people will be crazy enough to join us. But not her. It's too risky."

Mashiro considered this. "Kensei's such a stupid big brother. A good one, but a stupid one." She laughed at the face he made at her. "Ukitake said that they're trying to improve the process, so maybe it won't be so dangerous. I think that if Emi wants to Hollowify, we should allow her to." Glancing up in thought, she added, "But I want her to join the Ninth Division. She fits there." She nodded to emphasize her point.

"Oh yeah? How ya figure?" Kicking off his last boot, he stood on the cold floor.

"She just . . . does. I feel it." Mashiro looked so serious but sounded silly. Unbearably cute.

Laughing despite himself, Kensei started walking off.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Shower," he called back. "You should, too. Have you smelled yourself?" He only laughed at her indignant outcry.


	21. Life Starts Now

A/N: Did you miss me? Nah, of course not, but you missed the story, so here. Have at. And a little early, at that. Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, CaribbeanPrincess07, BLeach Rulez, and Emakira, and also Three Days Grace. What I wouldn't do without some good music to help me tackle my own horrible writing to make it slightly better.

I think people underestimate how hard it is to change one's own life and ways of thinking.

* * *

Kensei returned to his futon, freshly showered and weary from the last few days, to find a decent-sized paulownia box beside it. On top of the box was a slip of paper. Slinging his towel around his neck, he sat on his futon and took up the paper.

'Kensei, please cherish these as much as I have.'

He recognized the round, flowing scrawl of kana to be in Mashiro's handwriting. He'd become too familiar with it after having to go back and correct her reports so frequently. Setting aside the note, he slid the box between his feet and lifted the lid. Inside were neat stacks of five tatoushi and five shallow paulownia boxes. Lifting out the first box, he discarded the lid quickly. Curiosity was getting to him, though he had a painful suspicion at what he was going to uncover. Sure enough, in this box he discovered something he hadn't seen in decades. His black, fingerless gloves. He stared for a moment before breathing; reaching into the box, he was afraid the material would disintegrate before his eyes. One glove in hand, he set the box down and slipped it on. Holding his hand before his face, he flexed his fingers a few times, made a fist, flexed his arm. He'd missed that feeling.

Forgetting entirely to remove the glove before moving on, he was feeling better about this and at once reached for the second box. It contained his very worn, very abused tabi and waraji.

The third box revealed a smaller pair of waraji and tabi. He smiled, thinking of those tiny feet. The fourth box contained her lieutenant's armband, which Mashiro promised to Emi. Running trembling fingers over it, recalling the memories . . . he wasn't sure if he really wanted to go on. He could guess what might be in the fifth box, and the items uncovered so far told him what to expect wrapped in the tatoushi.

As predicted, the fifth box contained her pink scarf and favorite white sunglasses. He idly wondered if he'd been the one to buy her every scarf she'd ever owned.

Knowing that probably two of the tatoushi contained her shihakusho, he resolved not to disturb them and instead looked only for one: the one with white inside. He didn't have to look far, as the tatoushi containing his lovingly folded haori was right on top. Carefully unwrapping the paper, he gently unfolded his haori, standing as he did so to let it hang down in his grasp. He tossed his towel from his neck to his futon, eyes never leaving the _kyuu_ emblazoned on the white material, and then he put it on. It still fit perfectly. He never stopped to think how ridiculous he probably looked, wearing nothing but red basketball shorts, one black fingerless glove, and his haori, but to say he gave a fuck right now would be a stretch.

Smoothing the fabric over his chest, he sighed. Even if they were returning to Soul Society, he'd never be Captain of the Ninth again. That Division had been his whole life, taken away so easily, and he could never get it back. Well, technically he could, but he wouldn't be willing to kill so selfishly, and that Hisagi kid had earned it. He'd never dream of taking that away from him.

Sighing as he took off his haori, he began at once to box everything up again. He was somewhat embarrassed when he realized he'd left on the glove. Those damn things really did become like a second skin. Once he'd put everything away safely, he sought out Mashiro.

He found her, freshly showered, already in bed and almost asleep. He edged closer, quietly, and he was already in bed with her, hovering over her, before she realized his presence. She attempted to speak, but he interrupted in a hushed, gentle tone. "Thank you."

Kissing her lightly, he brushed the damp hair from her forehead. He eased down onto his side then, pulling her to his chest when she rolled to face him. They took a few moments to settle into a comfortable position, finally settling for her head on his arm and her knee wedged between his thighs. He wasn't really comfortable, but if she could sleep soundly . . . The usual circus was in full-swing inside his head, with Tachikaze trying to get him to deal with the past, and inner Hollow urging him to take advantage of the sweet and vulnerable woman at his side. His heart was near bursting with love mingled with pain and anxiety, and his logic was nowhere to be found. Contemptible bastard always ran off when he needed it most. And his cock, that traitor, was siding with his inner Hollow, yet again. That fucker always managed to get involved at the worst possible times. Trying to distract his body and mind, he slid his hand under Mashiro's shirt and began rubbing her back in what he hoped was a soothing motion. She arched under his touch, pressing her chest against his, her thigh unintentionally dragging across his aching cock.

Sighing in frustration, he let his hand drop and turned his body away from her. This wasn't going to work. He turned over completely on his back, and she adjusted in her sleep, draping her body over his. Okay, this was a little better. He could ignore his body's obvious desire now, even if she draped her leg over his, even if he could feel her warm breath heating his skin. He liked when she slept with her head on his chest, curled up next to him. He idly played with her still-damp hair as he attempted to clear his mind.

The big question was, why had Mashiro kept those things? Beyond obvious were the stubborn blood stains she'd apparently painstakingly tried to wash from the white haori; lack of permanent creasing in the fabric suggested she regularly refolded the clothing so the items didn't become damaged. She cared about that crap, and the thought boggled his mind. Mashiro wasn't the sentimental type, at least, he'd never pegged her for it. How much about her didn't he know?

More importantly, why did he thank her? The last half hour strolling down memory lane had served no other purpose than stirring the longing and grief that had settled in the bottom of his heart, drudging up some memories for which he'd rather hit her than thank her. The rigidity of his character – the thought crossed his mind in a moment of candor – perhaps lent him to be more sentimental than he supposed of himself or of her, that perhaps he held onto memories a little tighter, a little dearer. The resurgence of _feeling anything_ after being reunited with his family was proof enough of that, but this stagnation of perpetually idling in what-had-been and merely letting the here-and-now happen left him feeling victimized. He'd let himself become a victim of circumstance, and that didn't sit well. All this time, he thought he'd been in control . . . How much about himself didn't he know?

He couldn't keep juggling past, present, and future with the feigned apathetic disinterest in anything but himself. Megalomaniacal he was not; maybe a bad ass, but he had no illusions of grandeur for himself. All he really wanted was right there in his arms, drooling on his chest and mumbling in her sleep. Life really was that simple; why'd he try to make it so damn difficult?

No more stagnation. Life starts now.


	22. What It is to Burn

A/N: This chapter almost didn't survive. I debated cutting part of it or all of it, but in the end, it stays. Take that as you will. Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, -.2Sasuhina2.-, and Waiting for U To Come. The crowd's kinda thinning out, but traffic remains steady. :D So, thanks to all my faithful readers and reviewers. I heart you all a lot. ^_^

P.S. Thar be citrusy content ahead.

* * *

When Mashiro awoke, she was aware of two things: the grey light of pre-dawn, and Kensei's lips making a path from her shoulder to her neck. Innocuously resting on her hip was his hand, and she felt his leg shift subtly to rest between hers. Sighing when he pulled back, she prepared a morning greeting on her lips, only to have him steal it away with a deep kiss. That innocuous hand started to wander lustfully, sliding up her side and taking her shirt with it. His hand diverted from that path to curve around her breast, massaging gently as he nipped at her bottom lip. She slid her leg up his, grinding her hips against it, seeking contact. When her leg was finally draped over his hip, he rolled her onto her back, lifting her off the futon only long enough to discard her shirt. The cold air in the warehouse hit her then, nipples puckering in reaction. She needed Kensei, needed his warmth. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him to her.

The feel of his heated flesh covering her body set her ablaze. Never had she felt such a tightening in her stomach just from physical contact with him. His tongue on her neck left behind wet trails that caused her skin to prick in the cold air, which he at once warmed again with his mouth, with his hands, with his body. Rough fingers traced long, smooth lines along her thigh, coaxing it to wrap around his waist. His mouth was trailing lower now, so slowly, heating and cooling her flesh repeatedly; threading her fingers through silver hair, she tossed her head back and bit back the cry that tried to escape her throat as she felt his mouth close over her breast.

Her legs tightened around him, pulling him closer, her hips rocking, impatiently seeking contact to assuage the painful need for friction. His body was unconsciously meeting her demands, and soon their bodies were awkwardly rearranging themselves as he began sliding her shorts over her hips and down her long legs. Once he was over her again, she began tugging on his shorts, longing to finally consummate the love she'd fought so hard to gain. He seemed just as impatient, as he kicked his shorts off to some place unknown and kissed her again. They both desperately needed this, needed to know that this was real.

Burying his face in her neck, he took in the scent of peach blossoms and sweat. He breathed her name, but his next words died on his lips as the warehouse door rolled open with a thunderous rattling.

Instinctively turning toward the sound, Kensei cursed under his breath and rose on his knees. Mashiro sat up, covering her chest with her hands, eyes and mind alert to the situation. They'd both been considerably distracted, so neither were surprised that they _hadn't_ sensed the familiar reiatsu. Everyone must have still been asleep, because now they heard two familiar voices calling out for attention. What the hell were Ichigo and Orihime doing here so early?

Standing quickly, Kensei performed a quick search for his shorts before putting them on. "You stay here," he hissed at Mashiro, more out of his own frustration than any misplaced anger.

Approaching Ichigo and Orihime, he greeted them in the most foul tone he could conjure. "What the hell are you doing here so damn early?"

Orihime looked terrified; Ichigo laughed nervously. "We, uh... came for a visit?"

Kensei put his arm around Ichigo's shoulders and pulled him close, almost whispering in his ear. "You ever been laid, kid?"

Ichigo lunged forward, trying to escape Kensei, but he caught the boy in a near-choke hold. "No way, man! I'm not like that!"

"You ever wanna get laid?" Kensei's eyes leveled on him in what could only be defined as a killing stare.

"Uh, uuuuhhh..." Ichigo considered the question, too afraid not to answer.

"Then if you wanna live to get your first piece of ass, don't interrupt me in the middle of me getting mine. EVER. AGAIN." Kensei released his hold on Ichigo. The kid was blushing, and as soon as Kensei saw this, he started to feel remorse. Sexual frustration was something he didn't deal with except for with aggression. Was there a Hollow nearby? He needed to kill something.

Orihime, unfortunately, had overheard the exchange and was blushing as well. "We're sorry to disturb you, Muguruma-san," she began, carefully averting her eyes from his bare chest. "You see, it's important that I see Hachi." Kensei had to give her credit; she knew how to navigate through awkward social situations amazingly well. It was either dumb luck or incredible wisdom; he'd probably bet on the former.

"What's wrong, Orihime?" Hachi's voice came to them unexpectedly. The noise had, in fact, woken the others.

"Oh, Hachi! It's Shun'ou and Ayame..." she burst into tears then. Ichigo looked desperate, like he wanted to hug her but couldn't. Kensei recognized that sentiment – he'd felt that way a lot in his long life. Hachi pat the girl on her back and led her away to serve her tea and help her with whatever problem had come up. Ichigo offered an answer, quieting Kensei's curiosity.

"Pretty basic Hollow last night, but I got careless and it got a good hit on me. She was healing me when another one showed up, and..." His eyes followed the girl in question, a sad and almost helpless look in his eyes.

Kensei clapped him on the shoulder. "Hachi'll take care of her spirit friends, but you might wanna let her know that it's not her fault." Ichigo nodded, his eyes never leaving Orihime as Kensei returned to Mashiro.

She was dressed again, much to his chagrin, since she'd heard that the others were awake and moving about. Crawling back into the warmth of the futon, he was pleased when she rested her head on his shoulder. Right now, only two things could satisfy him: sex or sleep. And considering the situation, it would have to be sleep.

* * *

"It's a symbol of love and fidelity," Rose explained, attempting to persuade Lisa.

"Useless," Lisa repeated. "I read these stupid manga for the sex, not the love."

Mashiro tilted the book in Lisa's hands to look at the cover. "Oh yeah, I read that one," she chirped. "I wondered about that, too." Addressing Rose, "I found out it's a Western tradition that's becoming pretty popular."

Rose sighed wistfully. "The Western cultures are so romantic and sentimental..." He trailed off, Lisa's grimace making him lose interest in the topic.

The entire left side of Kensei's face twitched as he exchanged looks with Love. So that's what... That woman was going to kill him of a stroke long before his time. Was she trying to bait him into – he couldn't even think the word. He'd almost forgot about that stupid ring he bought two months ago. He was saving it for when he got himself into trouble, or perhaps for White Day or her birthday. He couldn't recall a single time he'd actually given her a gift for either occasion – not that he would, but whatever felt right. Thinking of it, he couldn't even remember when her birthday was. By the amused look on Love's face, he could see Kensei mentally smacking himself in the forehead. He retired from the room, feeling the need to exert himself physically. Maybe beating the stuffing out of his punching bag would make him feel better.

That damn thing was getting a lot of attention from him lately. Sexual frustration was nothing new to any of them, really, but the tension between he and Mashiro had yet to be resolved, a fact that had him constantly on edge. It never failed that they were interrupted pre-coitus. If he had to wait much longer, he wouldn't be above taking her right there on the floor for everyone to see. Lisa, being a natural voyeur, would enjoy the show too much, though. In fact, she'd been the source of a large portion of the interruptions. Unintentionally, of course, but Kensei had enough performance anxiety without also trying to ignore those hawk eyes he felt watching his ass. The whole 'get a room' adage was a moot point in this place. With another trip to Rukongai approaching, he'd thought to take Mashiro away for a weekend, but considering the only place they had to go was his parents' house...

Shuddering, the thought of being caught in the act by his parents was more than enough to kill his libido for a while. Not to mention, he needed to set an example for Isao and Masa, and the last thing he wanted was for those boys to create real trouble.

Okay, never mind. To hell with this punching bag. It was time for a cold shower. A very long one.


	23. Greener with the Scenery

A/N: I really asked this question and recorded all the responses I got (and used all of them here). Hilarity ensued. But it was one of those things where you'd have to have been there. This is largely filler that broke my writer's block and got the story going again. It's about to go by pretty fast, so hold on to the seat of your pants after this chapter, y'all. Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated (give me your address so I can send you pie for being so awesome. lol), gnarley-, and iRaawr.

* * *

Kensei was sitting quietly, cleaning Tachikaze, when Mashiro approached him. She said nothing and took her time getting comfortable on the floor at his feet. Hugging her knees, she began rocking from side to side, but Kensei never looked up from his task. After a few moments of companionable silence, Mashiro sighed and stilled. Turning, she looked to Kensei with an expression that usually warned him of impending tangential questions.

"Hey, Kensei," she began, her tone sending up another red flag, "what's it like to be a guy?"

He paused for a moment, seriously considering the question instead of being afraid of where this might lead. He formulated several responses: _You want sex all the time; there's never enough food; testosterone is the _only_ hormone; _but he dismissed them all. Setting back to work on Tachikaze as though he hadn't been fazed, he responded. "How can I really answer that question in a way you'll understand? I don't know what it's like to be a woman."

Hoping he'd shut her up, he slipped back into his own world where, as long as she stayed quiet, he could have some peace. But of course, no such fucking luck existed.

"Being a woman is really hard. It's painful and inconvenient, and everyone expects us to be wives and mothers, and to be beautiful and graceful and charming. And women are really mean to each other. I don't like being a woman." She was so calm and spoke with such conviction, he had to look to make sure Mashiro was still sitting at his feet. While mentally preparing his 'grass is always greener' speech, she continued. "Sometimes I wish I were a guy instead. But if I were, that wouldn't work so well."

"What wouldn't?" he asked, still lost in his own thoughts and not entirely following her thread.

"Us," she replied evenly, punctuating the answer with a thoughtful look back in his direction. She captured his gaze and held it as long as she dared, until the intensity of it made her blush. Whipping around suddenly, she began fidgeting with her scarf and tried to formulate more words to ease the tense silence.

Mentally, he was smiling, but he tried not to show it. He continued to polish Tachikaze with a perfectionist's precision as he let Mashiro stew in her own awkwardness for only a moment. When he felt a sufficient amount of time had passed, he decided to contribute to the conversation she had been trying to have with him.

"It's not so easy being a guy, either, you know."

She laughed nervously and shifted around to look at him. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he said as he set Tachikaze aside and began packing his cleaning materials. "Mostly, we just want to find a good woman and settle down, but that's not always easy. Guys compete with each other all the time, especially over some broad. But if we _do_ find one, then we gotta take care of 'er and give 'er everything she wants. And the worst part is, we want to but can't always do it."

Fascinated, mostly that Kensei was opening up about _something_, Mashiro prompted him to continue. "Why not?" She'd probably stop after this question. She didn't want to push her luck.

Sighing, he stood up in preparation to make a tactical retreat to anywhere she wasn't. "Time, money, sheer impossibility..." After yawning and stretching, he gathered his things. "But it's usually not for lack of trying."

"But it's something you have to want to do, huh?" The question left her mouth before she could recall it. She could already see he was trying to flee. She wanted to let him, but she just couldn't stop now. That's how it always seemed to be for her, never could stop herself.

Kensei paused mid-step. Looking over his shoulder, he saw something in her face he hadn't noticed when the conversation started, something akin to hope. After a moment of scrutiny, he finally answered. "No; she just has to want it enough." He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so dark, but he realized as he was talking that he was speaking to himself.

So she wanted a happy life with him and a kid. He could do that, right? Well, maybe. The kid was left up to chance, unfortunately, but that aside, he really did want to try to give her all the things she wanted. Trying to give her a kid? Well, he certainly enjoyed going through the motions of making one (provided they could ever get enough privacy), so yeah, he could try. But he was still having a hard time getting on board with this idea. Commitment was a scary beast indeed, and creating another living being was even more of a commitment to Mashiro than he could possibly fathom.

Despite all his desire to fulfill her every dream and wish, he couldn't help but feel that his wishes should factor into this one somehow. He'd thought carefully about it, and yes, he wanted the same things. The issue was _when_; she was ready now, but for all their time together, he still felt really insecure about this new, shaky level of their relationship. No matter how many times he'd tried to fool himself into believing 'not much' had changed, it was becoming increasingly evident to him that _everything_ had changed and already, nothing would ever be the same.

As for a happy life together, he wasn't so sure how that would work out, either. So far, so good, but that could go south any minute. He wondered at his own dread. She'd always risen to meet and exceed his expectations, but he supposed he was afraid that he wouldn't meet hers.

Now there's a thought. He thought he'd never see the day.

Apart from food and piggyback rides, what had she _ever_ expected from him? Well, he didn't really know of anything – not to say that she didn't have any expectations; nevertheless, he never wanted to let her down. He wanted to be the man his father was, strong, responsible, caring, and supportive, and he was afraid –

Ah, that's what it was.

Realizing for once that_ he, _not Mashiro, was the problem, he sought out a dark corner in which to examine himself yet again. This soul searching crap was getting old. Necessary, but old.


	24. It's the Simple Things

A/N: This is going to seem short and pointless, but it's really not. The next chapter is going to seem even more pointless, but it's not. It's all in what's not said. I like writing like that. Anywho, sendin' my shout outs this week to iRaawr, Ayase Reincarnated, Nicky Eira, IcecubeWishes, pepper89, and EvelynWinterGrace. Btw, what's up with you guys asking me to shoot you? I mean, that can be arranged, but then who would read this? *goes off to clean her pistol, just in case*

* * *

"_It's not that I don't want you to come," _he had said carefully, _"it's just that I need to go alone this time. It's only for a few nights. You can survive that long without me."_

Proud though he was to be tactful with her, he felt guilty nonetheless. If he'd just told her she couldn't come with him and left it at that, she would have argued and insisted, but he wouldn't have felt guilty. He preferred the comfort of old patterns and seeing her mad as opposed to hurt and lonely. That was the look she gave him, and it was heart-wrenching.

Sitting on the verandah with his father, watching the early sunset on this chilly autumn evening, Kensei struggled to keep his thoughts focused. He knew he wanted to talk with his father, but he wanted to make it as succinct as possible. Therein lay the difficulty. Kazuma was not a man of many words, but he was a "feeler." He talked about feelings and crap, while Kensei took after his mother, who was more reserved in showing emotions and affection. He'd noticed, however, that she had softened during his long absence. Perhaps it was old age or (temporarily) losing her first-born, but whatever the reason, she had changed considerably...

After taking a long drink from his steaming tea, Kazuma sighed, somewhat blissfully. "What do you need to talk about?" the smiling old man asked without prelude.

Kensei's eyebrow twitched as always, taken aback by the man's acumen. "How'd you know?"

"Not the first time you've come to me with that lost look on your face." He glanced knowingly at his son before taking another generous gulp from his tea. "And Mashiro did not come with you this time, probably at your insistence. It's about her, isn't it?"

Sighing, Kensei lay back on the hard wood, arms crossed beneath his head.

"I thought so." Setting down his cup, Kazuma shifted to face his son.

"I'm afraid," Kensei began, his voice shaky with the admission already, "that I'll screw this up. I'm so afraid of losing her that I'm holding back. I know it's not fair to her, but I can't get past it."

Kazuma waited a long, painfully silent moment, in case Kensei wanted to add anything, but when he didn't go on, the old man forged ahead. "I remember when you were a boy," he said, voice colored with nostalgia, "there was a young man just down the street training to become shinigami. You held such an admiration for him and wanted to be just like him, but every time I tried to persuade you to take up martial arts, you would back down. You were so afraid of getting hurt and of hurting others." Laughing, he shifted again, his bones growing weary with the cold. "But as you grew older, your admiration grew into an unstoppable passion. You wanted so much to become a shinigami renowned for his fighting skills that you were able to overcome your fears. A Master, they call you, of sword and of fist. I named you well." He chuckled affectionately as he observed a blushing Kensei, whom was beyond embarrassed, never mind impatient for his father to get to the point.

"I became that guy's captain, after working hard enough," Kensei concluded. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Kazuma said jovially as he took up his tea again, "that if you love her, you'll try. Sure, the thought of losing someone important is scary, but won't you be happier knowing you took the chance, rather than spending the rest of your life wondering?"

He'd already spent most of his life wondering that exact thing, and admittedly he wanted to know for sure. That didn't stop him from being scared as hell, though.

"How did you know you wanted to marry Mom?" He changed direction suddenly, feeling he could glean nothing more from the discussion at hand.

"Oh, I knew the moment I laid eyes on her," he said without hesitation. Laughing, he added, "It was your mother who needed convincing."

Well, that made perfect sense. "Okay, okay, so you knew you wanted to marry her, but how did you know you were ready?" Kensei sat up to escape the creeping cold of the wooden floor.

"We didn't, honestly. Once I wooed her, we just went for it. It's good to have sturdy plans and obtainable goals for the future, but sometimes all you need is a shared dream. Once we discovered that we wanted the same things in life, we wasted no time in trying to fulfill those dreams." Rising carefully to his feet, Kazuma turned toward the house, ready to go in from the cold dusk settling around them.

"Were you able to? Fulfill your dreams, I mean." Jumping agilely to his feet, Kensei opened the door for his father.

Smiling, Kazuma studied his son's face thoughtfully. "I'm looking at one of them and standing in the other. Life doesn't get any better than mine has been." Patting Kensei's shoulder as he passed into the house, he added, "To each his own, though. Know what you want and pursue it with that fiery passion of yours. You will never fail as long as you try."

* * *

_Eggs, yams, octopus, rice flour. Eggs, yams, octopus, rice flour. Eggs, yams, octopus, rice flour._ Kensei mentally chanted the grocery list as he headed to the marketplace. _Eggs, yams, octopus, rice flour. Eggs, yams, octo–_

"Hey, you punks! Get back here!"

The commotion broke his train of thought; he looked up to see a merchant's vegetables rolling in the street and two boys running for their lives, coming his way. Reaching out as they passed, he easily caught their collars. "Masa. Isao. Are you responsible for this mess?" He could already feel the veins popping in his forehead and neck.

"Hey, c'mon Kensei, it was just an accident," Isao laughed nervously. Now every vein in his body was visible.

"If it's just an accident, why are you running away?" Dragging the boys back to the irate vendor, Kensei whipped them around to face the man. "Well?"

"Are these boys your sons?" the man roared, obviously not trying to mask his outrage. He held out the remains of a busted pumpkin as proof of lost wages for the day.

"No, they're not, fortunately." Shoving the boys forcefully to remind them of their manners, he felt his blood pressure decrease when they mumbled sorrowful apologies. Addressing them as he released their collars, he instructed them to go home, and _now, dammit_, and they'd better be there when he got back. Then he paid the man for the ruined produce and went on his way, still chanting the shopping list.

When Kensei's mother asked why he didn't bring back enough octopus for the whole family, he obligingly told her of the fiasco in the market.

"Boys will be boys," she said.

"Boys need discipline to become good men," he said.

When she didn't argue, he started thinking of ways to rectify the situation. Evil, heinous, unforgiving ways from which he would derive so much joy.


	25. Show Me How to Live

A/N: Shout outs to my lovely CaribbeanPrincess07 (I missed you! T^T), Ayase Reincarnated, Phoenixzsar, Nicky Eira, and skeletinjsh. This story is happening in Japanese, and I'm just translating it for you. (Okiro = wake up! Kiiro = yellow. I made this mistake myself. It wasn't even lulz, it was just fail.) I totally promise this is going somewhere, but be warned: madness lies ahead. Delightfully evil Kensei is delightful, and horrendously confused Kensei is funny. Poor guy, I know how he feels. I grew up in a house like that.

* * *

Two and a half hours before sunrise, Kensei slipped into the room two doors down and across the hall from his. Dark and noisy with the heavy breathing of the sleeping teen boys, he carefully made his way over to stand between the two futon stretched out across the floor. Masa was lying half on the floor and face down; Isao was tangled in his bedding and apparently having a lovely dream about the girl down the street, if his idiotic grin and mumbling of her name was any indication. Kensei nudged Masa's head with his bare foot.

"Oi, wake up," he said firmly, with enough volume to wake even Mashiro. The boy groaned and rolled over, back onto his futon. He grumbled questioningly and slipped back into sleep as though undisturbed.

"Not _yellow,_ you moron. Get up!" To emphasize his point, Kensei shoved Masa's shoulder with his foot a few times. He whined himself awake as Kensei made it a point to wake Isao. Instead of even bothering with words, he firmly gripped the sheets in which Isao was tangled and jerked quickly, rolling the poor kid out of bed and onto the hard floor.

"Get dressed," he commanded over their protesting groans. "_Now._"

He took them on a jog that didn't end until the sun came up; keeping them moving was like herding cats. By the end of it, he knew they were exhausted – hell, _he_ was exhausted – but they really needed someone to push 'em one good time. Once they got home, they ate breakfast with their parents, but Kensei hurried them, forced them to eat faster and to abandon half-eaten bowls of rice by the end.

He spent the better part of a half hour stripping from the house every stitch of bedding and clothing and piled it on the lawn. A bewildered Isao and a yawning Masa watched with growing intrigue and horror. They had a feeling...

"Wash these, and then you can take another break. Maybe," Kensei said as he turned to go back inside.

"This stuff isn't even dirty!"

"And it's cold out here!"

"This is a woman's job!"

Kensei snapped around on his heel, glaring dangerously. "I don't care if it's dirty or not, and I don't care how damn cold it is. Do what I say and quit yer complaining." He turned again to go but turned around to face them yet again. "And it's not a _woman's job._ No one ever told me that men and women can't do the same things." He threw an article from the top of the pile at Isao's head. "Now get to work."

Inside the warm house, Kensei shed his hoodie and sat with his parents, drinking tea and conversing.

"They don't usually act out like this," Kazuma said gravely, referring to the two boys who should be elbow deep in freezing water right about now. "They're at that age now where we have to be much firmer with them, but they've become less controllable since you came around. Have you noticed this, Chiyoko?" His tone wasn't accusatory, simply observational.

"They are the youngest," Chiyoko said lovingly, "and they've always been the only boys around. When they were very small, they worked hard to please us and earn our affection. I suppose that was their way of showing their gratitude for giving them a safe place to call home. I think they feel threatened by you, Kensei. They feel like, with you around, they can no longer be Mama and Papa's most beloved boys." She smiled warmly. "They're good boys; they just need a lot of attention."

Kensei sighed as she refilled his cup. "I know they're good kids, and they do need a lot of attention. I see what you're saying – getting attention from me is probably the best thing for 'em right now. You know?" He considered his words as he drank deeply from his tea. Setting the cup down on the table, he rose languidly and swiped his hoodie from the floor. Pulling it over his head, he smiled at his parents. "Don't worry. I won't be too hard on 'em."

Walking out into the yard, he at once began his tirade, yelling and barking orders faster than the boys could keep up.

"Look at this!" he roared. He held out the muddy corner of a dripping wet blanket hanging on the line. Yanking it down, he threw it at the boys. "Wash it again. All of it. And do it faster this time. You're too damn slow!"

Laughing to himself as he reentered the house, he thought for a brief moment that he _should_ feel guilty for putting them through hell. But he didn't, and that was the beauty of it.

After another hurried meal at lunchtime, Kensei put the boys to work raking leaves from the vast expanses of lawn surrounding the house. Though a chore his father typically enjoyed, he allowed the boys to complete it at Kensei's insistence. To keep an eye on them this time, should they somehow manage to fuck up _raking leaves_, he practiced sword fighting techniques in the yard. Tachikaze wasn't _thrilled_ to be sealed for the purpose, but he was content, at least, to work with Kensei and keep him company. A few times he had to stop and point out sections of the yard they'd neglected, but they were otherwise working steadily, if begrudgingly. It wasn't lost on him, though, that they had been watching him distractedly, causing their negligence. Maybe, just maybe, he'd discovered something to occupy their time, apart from grueling chores.

At dinner, Kensei let the boys take their time. He figured he'd put them through enough for one day. Thanking them for their hard work, he smiled as the maniacal laughter went off in his head. If they thought it was over, they were sadly, sadly mistaken.

* * *

The four o'clock wake up call shouldn't have surprised them. The hours-long jog through the twelfth district shouldn't have surprised them. For all their surprise, however, they were completely dumbfounded when Kensei left them with the vegetable merchant they'd vandalized two days ago. The man had no qualms about putting the boys to work for the day, _gratis_, while he sat back and tried to keep warm.

Keeping warm was just what Kensei had in mind for the day, too. He found no greater employment than sitting and conversing idly with his parents, and he spent a lot of time thinking. Mashiro bounced wildly around the recesses of his brain. There was no getting around this; he needed to find his resolve, and soon. Treading this current path, he knew himself well enough to know that he might divert at the first opportunity. His was an all-or-nothing world; he cared enough to give her a part of himself, but that wasn't good enough. He wanted to care enough to give her all of him. She deserved nothing less.

Kayo and Tadashi (and, not to exclude Takao, who immediately reached for his uncle with a slobbery smile) arrived in time for lunch. Sitting around the table and eating grilled eel rice bowls, Kensei and Kayo bickered and everyone laughed. Living in the moment like this, it felt like old times, a time that was simpler and happier. This feeling reminded him what he missed, what he had hoped for so long he could reclaim with Mashiro. An ache in his chest reminded him that she wasn't with him, and _damn,_ he really missed her right now. He tried not to focus on that pang of guilt radiating through his body and instead passed the afternoon talking with Tadashi. At a loss of what to say to the man known to do dirty things to his little sister, they made general conversation about the family and the goings-on of Rukongai. All the while, Takao slept in Kensei's lap, where Kayo had deposited him hours ago, 'for practice.' After the first twenty minutes, Kensei found that he really didn't mind the squirming, noisy kid, and he thought even better of him when the kid fell asleep.

Late in the afternoon, a ruckus outside woke Takao, and the poor thing started screaming. Kensei panicked, not sure how to shut the thing up, but Tadashi came to his rescue, plucking his son up and laying him over his shoulder. A thunderous sound came through the house then, and both men rose to their feet to investigate. Just as they were about to leave the room, Emi burst through the door, face flushed from exertion and giggling wildly.

"Takao-chan! Don't cry! It's just me!" the girl cooed loudly as she held out her arms to the screaming child. His attention waylaid, he looked to her with teary eyes and stopped screaming. Recognizing the girl, he leaned away from his father and toward her. Tadashi passed him off, and Emi began rocking and swaying wildly with him, drawing giggles from the child. She noticed Kensei then. "Onii-san! I didn't know you were here!" She looked into the hallway then. "Senpai! Onii-san is here! Come and meet him!"

A girl not much older than Emi gracefully eased into the room, and she was dressed in shihakusho. With a low bow, she greeted Kensei quietly. "I am very honored to meet the former captain of my division, sir."

"Where's Onee-san?" Emi asked as she sat down with Takao and rolled on the floor to amuse him. Clapping and giggling filled the room, and Tadashi sat down to resume drinking his tea. Emi's shinigami friend was still standing by the door when Kazuma came through it. Her presence startled him.

"Oh, hello Hisoka! Are you staying with us this time?" She was politely declining the elder Muguruma's offer as Emi noisily protested that Hisoka should stay. Takao was still giggling and clapping, and Tadashi was slurping his tea slowly. With all the noise Kensei forgot to answer Emi's original question.

He never remembered family life being anything like this. Noisy kids running about, bringing their friends around to add to the clamor, and general chaos ensuing. _And Isao and Masa weren't even home yet._

_This_ is what he was signing on for? Wait just a goddamned minute. Mashiro was more than enough lunacy for him to bear, but he was actually considering bringing _kids_ into it? Had he finally lost it? How did his parents do this every day?

Feeling crowded, he excused himself from the room to find a quieter refuge. As he stalked down the hallway and past the main door, it opened, revealing two haggard boys carrying baskets of pumpkins, yams, and God only knew what else. Pausing, Kensei gave them an appraising look. "You work hard today?"

Masa grunted and nodded in response, and Isao set his basket down in the foyer. "Kensei, why did we have to work today? We already apologized, and you paid him back. And look at this! He sent us home with all this stuff."

Kensei leaned against the wall as he watched the exhausted boys take off their sandals. "Doesn't matter if I paid him for the stuff you guys ruined. _You_ had to pay him back, and you did. Words mean nothing. Show others how you are through your actions. I imagine that guy saw all the hard work you did today and wanted to reward you for trying to make amends. A little bit of responsibility, integrity, and humility can go a long way. You'll eventually learn that." Pushing off the wall, Kensei returned to his original task, which was to find some solitude for the short time left before dinner.


	26. Revelation

A/N: Happy Friday, everyone! I have the whole weekend off, my boss is back at work, I got my tax refund with which I will buy pretty furniture and fund my WIP cosplays... Life is GOOD! So, that means I'll get to working extra hard on finishing this fic for you guys this weekend - right after I get about 12 hours of sleep. :D With the trend of holiday specials, you'd think I'd have written a Valentine's chapter, amirite? Yeah, well, I kinda crapped out on that and did some fanart instead. I'll let you know when it's up on dA, which should be by the time I put up the next chapter. :D Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, CaribbeanPrincess07, xLostStar, and Guard-y nut. Lots of hugs for everyone! (Can you tell I'm in a good mood?) On to the ficcage!

Quotes from Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ don't belong to me or Kubo-san.

* * *

Ah, _The Art of War_. Kensei plucked the volume from his shelf and opened the cover, tilting the volume toward the failing sunlight. A relic from the Living World he'd chanced upon during his Academy days, he'd studied the tome relentlessly to the point of memorization. That Chinese guy had some great ideas, so great that Kensei had committed himself to employing the strategies to his life in all things. He credited his rise to captaincy and successful stint as a leader to the text printed on the funny-smelling pages. As such, his fall was also foretold within that very text.

He skimmed over the pages, eyes straining to discern the characters printed there. _"Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are unexpected." _Aizen had done that, and Tousen. And come to think of it, Mashiro had also taken him completely by surprise. Flipping forward a few pages, _"Thus, though we have heard of stupid haste in war, cleverness has never been associated with long delays."_ He glanced up at the warm-colored hinoki ceiling, waiting for his inner monologue to form commentary for that one. It didn't have to form words, however, as he already felt the impact of it in his stomach. Moving forward with a more serious study of the words before him, he read intently, looking on familiar words with as little familiarity as he could, trying to glean something new from the verses.

"_He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight." _He thought of how proud of himself he'd been to avoid petty squabbles with Mashiro lately.

"_If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles." _He thought of that nagging fear that he'd do something unforgivable to drive Mashiro away for good.

"_Therefore the good fighter will be terrible in his onset, and prompt in his decision." _This, a painful reminder of his indecision and seeming inability to form a solid resolve concerning her and their future.

"_Therefore, just as water retains no constant shape, so in warfare there are no constant conditions. He who can modify his tactics in relation to his opponent and thereby succeed in winning, may be called a heaven-born captain." _These verses had always been important to him, striking in their verisimilitude. Keeping those words close had given him the push he needed to succeed, had made him feel it was his right to be a Captain and to be responsible for the two hundred men and women under his command. In this new light, however, he realized there was no promise that what he had with Mashiro would always be the same, would always be good. He'd trained himself to counter the enemy, and the enemy he fought this time were two people he knew better than any, Mashiro and himself. Victory was imminent, but he couldn't help still feeling the weight of his misgivings.

Closing the book there at the end of chapter six, he squeezed his eyes shut and with a sigh wrenched them open again. Love and war were constantly likened to each other, but he wished Sun Tzu had also written a book on relationships and parenthood. Though intellectual enough to think in metaphors, he'd much prefer to get the straight dope from a respected authority.

A grumble from his stomach drew him away from his thoughts, reminding him that the eel and rice were long gone and dinnertime was rapidly approaching.

On his way to the dining room, he heard a familiar voice singsong just outside the main door. "We're here!" it said. He approached the door and slid it open abruptly to reveal Mashiro and . . . and . . .

"Onii-san!" Emi's voice shrilled in surprise from behind. "We were just coming to get you for dinner."

"Emi-chan!" Mashiro cried; "Onee-san!" Emi answered, and drawing in a gasp, "Captain Hisagi!"

"Captain Hisagi?" Hisoka stepped forward, peering out into the darkness beyond the door.

"Miyaki?" Shuuhei answered, just as surprised as she was.

Stepping aside, Kensei allowed Mashiro and Shuuhei to enter. He wasn't going to like the answer but, "What are you doing here?"

Mashiro sighed as she pulled off her boots and left them beside the growing line of sandals. "Kensei-meanie has been gone too long," she said at last. "And I know you've been wanting to visit Shuuhei-kun again. I didn't think you would though, so I brought him to you." Her thoughtfulness not to be undermined, this was ludicrous. A Ninth Division reunion, in his family's home? _Haaaa . . . _

Once Shuuhei and Hisoka had worked out the reasons why each was present in this most unlikely of situations for them, he pulled Kensei aside for a brief conversation.

"She's, uh, _interesting_, isn't she?"

"Who, Mashiro?" Shuuhei nodded. "That's a good way to put it. Anyway, I didn't know you were crazy."

Shuuhei looked put-out. "Whadda ya mean by that?"

Kensei laughed. "You'd have to be crazy to follow her anywhere."

Yeah, but he'd had his reasons, chiefly among them, the promise to finally sit and talk with his hero.

"Hey Mama, two more place settings!" Emi bellowed down the long hall. Chiyoko poked her head out the kitchen door and reprimanded Emi for her impropriety; all the while, the house reverberated with the din of its happy inhabitants, inviting its guests into its loving warmth.

* * *

After dinner, everyone broke into two separate parties, the men and the women.

Kensei and Shuuhei entertained Kazuma, Tadashi, Isao, and Masa with stories of their adventures as shinigami. None of their stories coincided, of course, save one. Kazuma, being the only one present with knowledge of his son's tattoo, had wondered at the Hisagi kid, but now he understood. That his son had inspired someone else to become great filled him with pride. At mention of the Infamous Tattoo, Isao and Masa insisted upon seeing it. They snickered, of course, knowing its other implications, but Kensei silenced them effectively. "Take a good look. This is pride and loyalty. I worked hard to earn the right to have this. Hisagi worked just as hard to earn the privilege, too." That he'd distinguished the difference between his right and Shuuhei's privilege was important. The six, representing his name, was his birth right. If anyone were to emulate Kensei, he was proud that it was this kid. He became a captain through hard work and determination, which spoke volumes for his character. That _piece de resistance_ on his face was a bold salute to his sole inspiration for striving to achieve higher goals; Kensei didn't mind so much being associated with the guy, not at all.

The women were much noisier. Chiyoko, the only _true_ matron in the room, was beginning to realize her age as she sat quietly and listened to the chirping girls all around her. Kayo and Mashiro held an animated conversation about children in high pitches, while Emi and Hisoka squealed loudly over this boy and that. Occasionally the conversations would overlap and intertwine, the shrill din worming its way into Chiyoko's tired mind. At long last, she decided to excuse herself to bed. "Kayo, your room is prepared for you and Tadashi. Mashiro, I hope you do not mind sharing a room with these two silly things," she said as she gestured to Emi and Hisoka. On the contrary, the three of them squealed delightedly.

Mashiro really missed sleeping in Kensei's arms, but another night or two wouldn't be so bad. At least she'd have someone to talk to, unlike sleeping all alone in a secluded corner of the cold warehouse.

One thing Shuuhei learned about the Muguruma family was that they were hospitable, to the point that he felt guilty for ever expressing the need to leave. He obliged himself to stay at Kazuma's insistence, despite his fear that the division might burn to the ground in his absence. Another thing he learned about the Muguruma family was that no one slept in this house, ever. He didn't know, of course, that the primary inhabitants of the house were an elderly couple who slept long hours and two teenage boys who slept even longer hours. He'd never know it, if tonight were anything to go by. From one room, he could hear his fourteenth seat squealing with her friend and the crazy former lieutenant; from another, he could hear two boys arguing over something pointless; and from yet another, he could hear the suspiciously amorous sounds of the young married couple.

Sighing, he looked over to Kensei, who appeared to be having just as much trouble sleeping. "Quite a lively household," he remarked, trying to mask his exasperation.

"Not usually," Kensei grumbled. After a second of hesitation, he rose from his futon and left the room. Shuuhei heard a door slide open somewhere. "Shut up and go to sleep, or I'll make you run twice as far in the morning!" The door closed. Footsteps, a pause, and then, "Hey you two! Save that for when you're at home!" More footsteps, a pause, hesitation. A door slid open slowly. "Keep it down, will ya? I'm tryin' to sleep." A feminine voice mumbled an apology, and after a few seconds, he heard the door close, and the footsteps returned.

As Kensei returned to his futon, a relieved sigh escaped his lips. The new silence of the house allowed Shuuhei to hear it. "Much better," Kensei said at last, and Shuuhei hummed in agreement.

After long moments of the renewed tranquility that Kensei hadn't experienced since his first night here, Shuuhei spoke up, almost hesitantly. "Hey, Muguruma-san, have you ever been torn between two women?"

Kensei snorted. "Take my advice, kid: pick one and stick with it. One is more than enough."

Shuuhei's hum was the last sound for countable minutes, until the girls erupted in laughter, shattering the silence.

"Or run. Very far away."


	27. Leave It All Behind

A/N: You know what really pisses me off? Writers who beg for reviews and refuse to update unless they get enough. Even if no one read this story, I'd still update it because, hell, someday, someone might read it and like it. Don't withhold the goods just because you don't get fifty reviews per chapter, and if you're not gonna finish the story, at least be honest and tell us you just lost interest. :/ Okay, I'm done with my rant. I'm having a lot of trouble with chapter 29, but rest assured, the story will go on. :D Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, ghostofnoodlewrap, and Oicherealtai (y hallo thar, my banana-y friend!).

* * *

Kayo and her family left that morning while Kensei still had the boys out on their morning jog, but all the other guests slept soundly until after sunrise. Chiyoko was hard at work in the kitchen when her sons came in. Leaving Kensei to finish preparing breakfast for everyone, she excused herself to serve tea and to wake the others. He peeked into the dining room to see his father and Shuuhei talking quietly, and as his mother served tea, Mashiro joined them.

Turning his attention back to the kitchen, he realized Isao and Masa were hindering more than helping, so he excused them to the dining room. He wanted to be alone right now, anyway. His heart hammered in his chest, its echo pounded in his ears. Words didn't matter, but he could only commit himself to this with words. Words seemed to make it real. He had to put himself in a situation, with witnesses, that could not be reversed due to his own pride.

Nervously, he joined everyone for breakfast.

Light conversation passed around the table, mainly focusing on Shuuhei's need to return to Seireitei, Hisoka's need to travel onward to visit her father, and Isao and Masa's new fascination with fighting. Kensei offered noncommittally to show them a few moves as long as they continued their good behavior but showed little interest in anything else going on. He couldn't eat for making himself sick over this. He had to say something, and now. Dragging in a breath exaggeratedly, he leaned into the table and faced his father as though no one else were around.

"Dad, Mom... I, um..."

"Oh, I know you have to leave today. We sure will miss having this house full of kids!" Kazuma said with a warm smile. "Emi already has to go back tomorrow, so pretty soon it'll just be us and the boys again. You're always welcome here, Hisoka," he added, wanting to address everyone present, "and we'd love to have you over again for dinner, young Captain, sir." Hisoka politely thanked Kazuma, and Shuuhei promised to visit anytime he were in the neighborhood.

Kensei's heart was still pounding. Though his father had taken the attention away from him, he still felt his words imperative. Nevertheless, he knew he should pay attention to the signs. Poor timing was poor timing. He could understand that. Whether his father had saved him from himself intentionally was up for debate, but he was now feeling grateful. Relieved, even.

Immediately after breakfast, however, Kensei took his parents aside.

"I want your honest opinions," he started. "Have I finally lost my mind, or am I doing the right thing?"

If he'd learned anything while growing up, he learned that parents know _everything_. They were the most incredibly omniscient beings, and frighteningly so. How they gathered their information, he couldn't guess, but he _knew_ they knew what he was talking about. His sense of urgency pressed them for answers.

"Mashiro is a delightful girl," his mother began, almost hesitantly. "She adores you. I worry that she cannot take care of you the way your humble mother has tried to, but I trust her to do her best."

"Your relationship with her is unique," his father offered. "There's no other Kensei in the world, and there's no other Mashiro in the world. They make an odd pair, but they were made for each other." He laughed. "I think you could look this world over and not find anyone to make you happier."

"Despite the fact that she drives me insane?" Kensei added.

Chiyoko laughed lightly. "As though your father does not have his moments? Marriage is a friendship, Kensei. You must take the bad with the good. It will never be all good, and if you are fortunate, it will never be all bad."

"You see all your failings and shortcomings as a man," Kazuma continued, "but love does not see these faults. Just as you often look past her faults, she does not see yours, either. All you can do is love her and try to be a better man."

Kensei sighed, sinking to his knees on the floor. "Is it really that simple? Feels like there's so much more I should be doing."

"It's never that simple," his mother said softly, kneeling beside him. His pained expression broke her heart. "Your father is right, of course, but it's a challenge that you must face every day. To keep her by your side, you must work hard every moment. She must also do the same. I have watched my boy grow into a respected and honorable man through his own hard work and determination; I have no doubt that if you bring that same passion and determination to this, you will be happy."

"Just be Kensei, let Mashiro be Mashiro, and make her the most important person in your life. As with everything else that's to be, it will all fall into place." Kazuma patted Kensei's shoulder as he turned to leave. "You have our blessing."

"Do you think," Kensei said abruptly, choking on the words, "do you think I'll be a good father?"

Kazuma smiled, even though Kensei couldn't see it. "The best kind."

His insides were trembling. Not since he was a child had he let anyone see him in such a vulnerable moment as this. For all his confidence, he still had moments of fear and doubt.

"We should see our guests off," Kazuma concluded cheerily.

* * *

Emi, Kensei, and Mashiro waved to Shuuhei and Hisoka as they left through the gate, and once they were far enough out of earshot, Emi sighed dreamily. "I want senpai and Captain Hisagi to get married and have pretty babies!"

Kensei rolled his eyes in response as he turned toward the house.

"Of course, I want Onii-san and Onee-san to get married and have pretty babies, too!"

Mashiro squealed and nearly choked Emi to death. Those two... _total morons._

"You know, Emi," Kensei called back, turning his head to look as he leaned against a post, "that's not such a bad idea." _Just go with it_, he repeated to himself multiple times within the span of a millisecond. "Well, you want to, right Mashiro?"

Mashiro's hold on Emi loosened, and she approached Kensei slowly, hesitantly. Was he really – again – asking her what _she_ wanted?

"Say yes, say yes!" Emi's whispered coaxing and giggling went unheard.

He could see the conflict written on her face. Was she expecting something different? On this point, he wouldn't ask a question to which he didn't already know the answer, but something in her eyes made bile rise from his stomach.

"Do you mean it, Kensei?" Her voice was quiet, laden with hesitance. Did she think he was playing games? He wasn't _her,_ for God's sake. "Do you really mean it?" Ah, there she was, the serious Mashiro who had been hiding for a long while now. Her voice trembled with emotions that they were both afraid to face.

Kensei shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. "Wouldn't bother asking if I didn't."

She drew closer to him, still hesitant. If anything, she was hesitant to believe this new reality. For so long... so long she'd wanted nothing more than to be Kensei's most important person, to be the object of his love and affection. She was nigh on thinking he was incapable of those things, until she managed to turn his world upside down with one stupid utterance. No, she wasn't just a nuisance he'd learned to tolerate, after all. What was that saying about stirring the pot?

All thoughts were abandoned, and their masks slipped and shattered on the ground as Kensei wrapped his arms around her and kissed her painfully tenderly. For long moments, nothing else existed but them.

They even missed Emi's ecstatic reaction, which included a rather loud announcement to the entire

neighborhood (or more like the entirety of Rukongai, with her lungs) that, "Onii-san is getting married! Mama, Papa, come quickly!" This, of course, brought out her parents and brothers, as well as curious would-be onlookers from the street. Despite a chorus of congratulations and well wishes, they remained in their own world. If they paid attention to the goings-on around them, they'd be reminded that their lives were changing drastically, and that wouldn't do. Because, nothing should ever change between them. They should only be Kensei and Mashiro, and they should always be together.


	28. Killing the Fly

A/N: I've watched a few classic films over the last week that reminded me how much I miss writing tragic romance. A little angst is good for the soul. When did I start writing this semi-fluffy stuff? :/ Shout outs go to Oicherealtai, Ayase Reincarnated, demonfox910, piper (long time, no see! Glad you got internets back :D ), pepper89, CaribbeanPrincess07, and Lones. Fair warning, the next chapter will probably be late. It's still being a bear. T^T Also, I lol'd when I reread this chapter. This story's getting kind of ridiculous.

* * *

Where was that damn thing? Not tucked away in any of his usual hiding spots, Kensei tore the warehouse apart looking for that little black box. Had he accidentally left it at his parents' house, lost it somewhere in Rukongai? He asked everyone, except Mashiro, if they'd seen it, only to be answered with raised eyebrows, curious stares, and inquiries as to the contents. He none too obligingly divulged the dirty little secret he'd hidden, hoping that knowledge of the contents might spark more recollection than ridicule. His hope, as always, was futile. Rose was _still_ swooning, after three hours, about how _romantic_ it all was. Shinji and Hachi, at least, took him seriously and were helping him all but raze the complex in pursuit of that tiny diamond ring.

After spending two hours scouring the dusty underground, Kensei collapsed into a chair, covered head to toe with dirt and sand. Shinji and Hachi weren't in much better shape, and they commiserated with their friend. Kensei's _romantic_ mood now long gone, he covered his face with grimy hands and groaned.

"Might as well cut your losses," Shinji hinted. Money was a hard thing to come by, and that ring had cost a lot of it.

"That's not the point here," Hachi hummed soothingly. "Our friend's wish to show sincerity through this gesture is thwarted. But Kensei, surely you know she needs no such gesture to –."

"I know, Hachi, I know." Kensei heaved a sigh and leaned over with elbows on his knees, head bowed deeply. "It's just something I really wanted to do for her, but –."

"Oi, Love!" Hiyori's shout pulled the men's attention away from the conversation. Love looked up from his manga to see Hiyori standing on the ledge of the next level, and she hurtled something at his head. Shinji's forehead creased as he studied the scene.

Somewhere above them, Mashiro yelped. "No fair, Hiyori-chan! I found that! I didn't even get to open it yet!" Kensei looked back, curiosity piqued.

"Shinji," Love bellowed as he tossed the mystery object toward him. Shinji easily caught it with one hand. Eyes within the circle of men lit up.

"Shiiiiin-jiiiii," Mashiro drawled as she came to the ledge. He put the box in his pocket.

"Whaaa-aaat?" he responded, causing her to stamp her foot and make a face at him. He stuck his tongue out at her then turned his attention back to Kensei, completely forgetting the game of keep-away. "And Hiyori saves the day."

Kensei fell backward into the chair, all tension falling from his body as relief washed over him. Guess it was a good thing he'd told everyone about the box and its importance after all. Otherwise, Hiyori wouldn't have bothered to snatch it away from the little magpie.

A shower. A shower, then dinner, and then he'd give it to her. Granted, the drama had stolen the impact, from his perspective, but maybe the moment wasn't a loss. Maybe she'd be floored, and maybe she'd understand that he couldn't be more perfectly serious.

* * *

Shinji wanted to swat the mosquito buzzing around his head. "C'mon, Shinjiiii!" Buzz buzz buzz. "Give it to me!" Buzz buzz buzz. He ground perfectly straight teeth, clicked his tongue ring to their backs. "Coooome oooon!" The clicking intensified, reminding an amused Hiyori of a ticking time bomb. "Pleeeeeease!"

"That's enough," Kensei bellowed as he scooped up Mashiro and threw her over his shoulder. "Leave the man alone."

As Shinji watched Kensei carry away a kicking and screaming Mashiro, he had a new appreciation for Kensei and his apparently copious amount of patience.

Kensei ignored Mashiro's arguments as he sat her down on his futon, long legs still kicking out to strike no target in particular. "But Kensei, he's hiding it from me!"

Sighing, he sat down next to her. "What's he hiding?"

"A box I found," she pouted. "Hiyori-chan took it from me. Does it belong to Shinji?" Her eyes grew wide with a gasp of realization, thinking maybe she'd inadvertently stolen something that belonged to him.

Kensei scratched the back of his head as he hesitated. "No, it's not his," he said carefully as he cast his gaze to the floor. "It's mine," he returned with new confidence, fishing in his cargo pocket for the box. "Will you shut up and leave everyone alone if I let you see what's in it?"

Mashiro nodded vigorously and grabbed for the box as he held it out. Pulling back, he sent her a sharp look before easing the box back into view, this time with its top open. Her eyes went wide as she reached for the little ring, mouth agape as she stared unbelievingly. Kensei snapped the box shut just short of pinching her fingertips and put it back in his pocket casually. "There, happy now?"

Shock was still evident on her face. "What is that, Kensei?"

He snorted as he prostrated himself on the futon, one arm behind his head. "Good God, woman. You don't even recognize diamonds when you see 'em? What kind of woman are you?"

She turned to look at him, her voice rising in pitch as she ventured a guess. "For me?"

"Nah, for my other girlfriend. What the hell do you think, moron?"

She crawled over and hovered above him, clinging to the front of his shirt with greedy fingers. "For me! Kensei –."

"Shut up already, will ya? You promised, remember?" His stony expression did nothing to silence her.

"But if it's for me, can't I have it?" It seemed like the simplest, most obvious thing in the world; he could clearly see that she was confused as to why she even had to ask.

He sighed as he bent his knee and reached again for the box. "I suppose," he mumbled facetiously. "On one condition."

She sat up, alert and full attention on him. It was sparkly and she wanted it, damn it. He sat up again, opened the box, studied its contents as he considered his words carefully. She waited with rapt attention, trying with untold determination not to squirm in giddy excitement. Was he really giving her a ring? Did it mean what she hoped?

"We've, um, we've been through a lot together, Mashiro. But I'm afraid that now you might change your mind or run away. I don't want that to happen. What we're doing now, this is very... _different_ for us. So, um, no matter how bad things get, promise me you'll always be by my side." His gaze had settled on her tiny fists resting atop her bent knees, but now he looked up at her face, hesitant and honestly afraid of what he might see there. She was only smiling.

"In that case," she said slowly, "I'll only accept it on one condition." The determination in her voice didn't match her expression. "Kensei has to promise me that he will always love me, even when I'm being stupid, and that he won't ever leave me."

"In that case," he said with a smile that also didn't match his tone, "it's yours." He placed the box in her hand with an air of indifference and was about to recline into his pillow again, when she giggled and grabbed his sleeve.

"Silly Kensei, aren't you gonna put it on me?" He gave her a weird look. "You know, like in the manga? That's how they do it, you know."

He rolled his eyes as he took the box back from her. "You're not allowed to read manga anymore." He took the ring out carefully and tossed the box over his shoulder.

"What about manga with fighting in it?" She watched anxiously as he took her hand in his.

"Yeah, I guess that's okay. But only fighting. No more of this romance bullshit." He slipped the ring onto her finger easily.

"What about monsters?" she asked as she admired her new trinket. She'd never wear gloves again, just so she could always look at it and be reminded of Kensei.

"Mashiro? Shut up." He pulled her into a kiss, taking advantage of the opportunity to finally lie back and rest after the long, hard day of looking for that stupid ring. She settled into his arms easily and sighed. With arm outstretched above them, she continued to admire the ring adorning her hand. "Where did you find that box, anyway?"

"I wanted to prove to Kensei that I could be a good wife," Mashiro said distantly, "so I was doing your laundry. It was in your pocket."

"You were... _what_?"

"By the way, I need a new body suit, and you need new socks. Everything is orange..."

Unable to process any of that, his mouth fell agape. "Wait a minute, you knew the box was mine all along?"


	29. So I Need You

A/N: On a serious note, please join me in sending prayers and positive vibes to the people of Japan today, as they try to overcome the largest earthquake to ever strike them and the subsequent, devastating tsunami. If you'd like to help in the relief and recovery efforts, hop over to the American Red Cross website and donate that money you were saving for the new Bleach tankobon. It only takes a few minutes, and every little bit helps! We love you, Japan! We'll always be BFFs.

Now on a fanfic note: I FINALLY finished this chapter (and on time; I can hardly believe it), but I'm not loving it. But, it's done, so here ya go! Oh, yeah. Uh, citrusy content, but nothing explicit. My sincerest apologies; I really wanted to deliver smut. Oh well, maybe in another fic. Only three chapters left!

How could I forget? Shout outs to Ayase Reincarnated, CaribbeanPrincess07, Kyliwolf, pepper89, nuk1014, and piper. Also, I apologize if you got a preemptive alert email, as I got WAY ahead of myself and published the chapter before I formatted or added this lengthy AN. Okay, going to bed now. ^_^

* * *

Mashiro felt... at ease. No longer was she second-guessing herself and wondering where he stood. His intentions couldn't be any clearer or more direct. She had time to sort through all her emotions now that they were back from Soul Society and well-rested. Those deeper, darker, mature emotions that she often fought back were now surfacing without provocation. How could she do her part to keep this relationship from crumbling and thereby keep her promise to Kensei? After spending a few hours racking her brain, she could form no conclusion. Well, the best way to find out how to make Kensei happy was to ask him.

When he whispered his response in her ear, she turned purple. After hitting him a few times and screeching, "That's not even perverted, that's just gross!", she pleaded with him seriously. Well, as seriously as she could. He'd just _laughed_ at her reaction... Never mind that he was laughing at her; he was _laughing_. She missed the sound. Smiling warmly, she awaited what she hoped would be a serious response.

"Just be yourself," he said at last, but he couldn't stop himself from adding, "and, uh, _that_ too."

She hit him again and sincerely hoped she bruised him.

Pulling her into his arms, he lay back on the futon, and she turned to rest her head on his shoulder. Sighing, she looked up to him. "Do you think we'll have this much fun when we're married?" She felt his body stiffen instantly.

"What? When did marriage come into this?" Panic button. He needed one now.

"Stupid Kensei! You _asked me to marry you_, didn't you?" She sat up a little, giving him the most incredulous look she'd ever given anyone.

"No, I didn't," he said flatly, but then he thought better of it. "I mean, that's not what I mean. I was making sure you were serious about wanting kids and stuff."

She kneed him hard in the thigh. "You said what Emi said was a good idea and asked me if that's what I wanted!"

_Fuuuuuuck. _Eject! Self-destruct! Something to get him out of this! "What'd Emi say? Something about babies and getting ma– oh. Damn." He was trying to pull Mashiro back into his embrace with little success. She kneed him again in the thigh, drawing a groan from him this time.

"And you gave me a ring!" She held out her hand in illustration, but he only stared dumbly at the appendage. "So, you don't want to marry me?" She looked mad _and_ hurt. This was serious business.

Softening his gruff, smart-ass tone, "No, Mashiro. It's not that I don't. Everyone just assumed that's what I was thinking, and I got caught up in it. I might really, really wanna marry you eventually. It's just weird to think about now."

She kneed him a third time. "What do you mean, it's weird? And, you _might_?" Pouting, she sat facing away from him, arms crossed over her chest. "Stupid Mashiro." Stupid for ever thinking this could work.

He wanted to scream. After two days, things were falling apart. Covering his face with his hands, he tried to figure out how he could fix this royal fuck-up. He'd already dug a deep hole and decided to put the shovel down, now he just had to climb out. "Mashiro," he barked as he sat up, unable to keep the irritation from his voice. He wanted to put an end to the foolishness now, while also quieting her baser fears, but his words were lost when she elbowed him in the side as he tried to wrap his arms around her. Growling, he grabbed her hard and covered her body with his, effectively pinning her limbs to the futon.

"I've had enough of this hitting and kicking shit," he seethed. His eyes narrowed dangerously on her wide, surprised ones. She stared at him for several long minutes, her gaze never leaving his as she held her breath in anticipation of what could come next.

Finally, he ended the silence. "I will do _anything_ for you," he whispered angrily. "I will give you _everything you want_. Just don't be so damn impatient." Painful pleading and a final surrender echoed within the last words. She was pushing him to the limits of his sanity and patience. She regularly broke those boundaries only to prove to him that he had much higher limits, but this was the end. Beyond this, he was certain that no logic or reason existed, only unchecked emotions and their irrationalities. That chaotic world remained relatively unknown and thoroughly frightening, but in the true spirit of a warrior-hero, he knew he must conquer that world by any means necessary.

"The only thing I really want from Kensei," she said quietly, barely letting a second elapse, "is the promise he made to me last night." This wasn't about marriage and children. She didn't require pretty words and the niceties of a romance, and neither did she require the quaint domestic existence of a regular family. Kensei was her home, her family, her heart, and she wanted to call him her own. As long as his heart was open for her, she could require nothing more.

Not to say that the notion of marriage was out, and she did relish the thought of raising children (if anything, the idea of little Mashiros running around to annoy him entertained her endlessly), but she wasn't going to lie to herself. If she didn't knowingly hold Kensei's heart within her hands, then none of those things would make a difference.

A few breaths passed between them as Mashiro waited for him to say something, _anything_, in response.

"Do you think," he said at last, voice thick with undecipherable emotions, "that I will give you anything less?" His grip on her wrists relaxed, and he eased his knees onto the small space of futon between her thighs. "Do you think," he brought his face closer to hers, his whispered words caressing her lips, "I could live with myself if I hurt you?" She hummed in response as her body awakened with the hot sensation of his breath. He smiled. "You silly woman, I _need_ you..." His words trailed off as he claimed her lips in a kiss that she looked so impatient to receive, but for all her impatience, his actions were slow and deliberate, even lingering, leaving her maddeningly close to the precipice of her own desire.

He took his time undressing her, often interrupting himself to praise her body with hands and lips. Giggles resounded as he found every ticklish spot on her body; sighs and moans taught him where he should give her the most attention. He committed to memory how she looked under him, vulnerable and hopeful, frightened and excited, nervous and sweet.

That all changed once he was inside her. Gone was the annoying girl he'd suffered so long, and now beneath him was the woman he always wanted her to be. She held onto him greedily with sharp nails and vise-like legs, unwilling to let him abandon her as she arched into him and thrashed about, wildly mussing her hair into tangles on the white pillow. He watched her lips, mesmerized by their plump softness, by the shapes they made as she loudly vocalized her enjoyment.

In his now unscrupulous race to the finish line, he held her sweat-slicked body close to him, his groans answering her strangled cries as he moved roughly within her. Resisting the urge to bite down on her shoulder to stifle his own sounds, he pressed deeper into her and all too soon, she knew it was over.

Collapsing onto his back as he gasped for precious air, Mashiro surprised him by curling up next to him and practically purring her satisfaction. Well, that was one guess, anyway, and probably the best one. Though he had been too honest with her, it really was weird to think of her in this way, and to be doing _this_, but being painfully honest with himself, the last thirty minutes had been the most humbling of his life. He hadn't been wrong to dare to hope, in a cold and isolated part of his soul, that there could inexplicably be more to her than he ever dreamed. The leap from friendship to romance was often a small one, but he'd intentionally made sure he'd have to fight himself tooth and nail to make that leap with her, and he succeeded by keeping her at arm's length for so long, knowing but not truly understanding her.

"You're awfully quiet," he said abruptly, his voice unintentionally laden with self-consciousness and suspicion. She only hummed sweetly, and he took notice of the dumb grin she wore. "If I'd known that was all it would take to shut you up, I would have done it years ago."

"Stupid Kensei," she mumbled softly as she stretched her body and relaxed against him again. They lay together, the silence not quite awkward but not entirely comfortable, and he idly played with her hair for long minutes. Though all tension between them dissipated within the span of no more than thirty awkward, aggressive, selfish minutes, both found themselves quickly filling that void with a new selfish need, a new sickness – an irrevocable addiction to each other.

Mashiro sat up slowly, leaned over him with a predatory glint in her eye. "My turn." For the first time in his life, he wasn't afraid of that mischievous gaze as it landed on him.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the lower levels...

"What's going on up there? Sounds like a bunch of wild animals." Rose strummed his guitar harder, hoping the loud chords would drown out the offending noise.

"Tickle fight," Hiyori commented offhandedly.

Love snickered. "Yeah, I'll bet Kensei's getting mauled by one right about now." A particularly pained masculine howl punctuated the suggestion.

"Tickle fight," Hiyori insisted.

"Imma go watch," Lisa said as she tossed her magazine aside. Shinji stayed her with an outstretched arm and a sharp glance.

"TICKLE FIGHT!" Hiyori screamed as she pressed her palms against her ears and tightly clenched her eyes shut.

Sidling up to her, Shinji pried a hand away from her ear and leaned in closely. "They're makin' babies," he hissed and to the desired effect. She ran screaming from the room, and everyone had a good laugh.

But no one saw her again for two days. Presumably, she was preparing a contingency plan to combat the pure evil that could possibly take over the world very soon.


	30. Beautiful Disaster

A/N: Sorry this is a little late, folks. Sudden craziness kept me away all day, but now I bring the updated goodness. This chapter feels out of place, like I'm not sure if there's supposed to be another chapter before it. (I did warn the story would move kinda fast now... shoulda believed myself.) Nevertheless, I will forge on with the story as-is and finish writing it this week. Only two chapters left. T^T Are you as sad as I am? Shout outs go to Ayase Reincarnated, pepper89, Darkkiller9, Oicherealtai, piper, and also to all of you reading this who've recently stopped by to read and give love to my newly-established drabble dump (I'm updating it today, too, FYI). :D

* * *

Tachikaze poked at Kensei's brain with a stick, but the man ignored his zanpakuto as he watched his girlfriend – fiancee? what the hell ever she was – wash dishes with Hiyori.

"Hey Chief, is it just me, or is she getting kind of... fat?"

Kensei groaned inwardly. He knew. He already knew, damn it all. Not as a medical fact, but he just _knew – _he'd had this really shitty dread feeling in the pit of his stomach since New Year's, and here it was, already almost spring. He just knew that the thing he feared most was happening.

"You moron," Kensei silently scolded his wily zanpakuto. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew he couldn't avoid it.

As he studied her from behind, he wondered if she had even noticed that her figure was filling out in places that, given her frame, should never fill out _quite like that_, that she had been sleeping a lot more than usual, and that she wasn't as annoying as she had ever been.

That last part was the best. Her energy was way down, but that made her moods more... consistent and neutral. Now that she made sense when they talked, he was learning more about her, trivial things he never could have guessed, like that her favorite color is actually purple, or that she hates cats, or that she's really good at math when she can focus for more than two seconds.

She was considerably milder, and the first time she swore her love to him with that newfound seriousness and calmness, a tone that was more matter-of-fact than demure, he wasn't sure what to think. Now he couldn't spare a thought for it, but he really liked Mashiro this way, loved her this way. If his dread feeling was right, and this was all due to pregnancy, then he'd try his damnedest to keep her knocked up –

"Kensei, I'm really tired," Mashiro said softly, interrupting his southbound train of thought. "I'm going to bed." As she paused by his chair and rested her hand on his arm, she looked back. "Thanks for your help, Hiyori-chan."

The blonde uttered a reply as Kensei touched her hand, bringing her attention back to him. "Would you like for me to join you?" he asked sincerely, having long-forgotten the more devious and shallow thoughts.

"No, it's okay," she replied with a delicate smile that softened her features, making her appear more mature and feminine than usual. He swallowed hard. "Don't stay away for too long, though. I'll miss my meanie Kensei." She frowned then, and the playfulness echoed a bit of what Kensei now considered her 'true' self. It seemed like the opposite of her usual behavior, no matter how she 'usually' acted, was always the 'true' Mashiro. He honestly didn't know who or what constituted the 'true' Mashiro anymore, but that was also something for which he couldn't spare a thought. Mashiro was Mashiro, and no typical behavior was her typical behavior. A beacon in the darkness or a one-woman circus: he'd take what he could get from her.

"Oh, hey, Mashiro," he said suddenly as he reached for her retreating hand. Turning back to him, her wide eyes were so sweet, so honest... "Are you pregnant?"

As soon as the question left his mouth, he wanted to recall it. He could already feel the echoed 'dumbass' in his head as Tachikaze mentally kicked him.

Her wide eyes widened impossibly, but she could say nothing to either confirm or deny; nearby, Shinji choked on his tea (and farther off, Love was thankful he wasn't the choking victim this time), and Hiyori shouted obscenities as she charged through the air, sandal in hand and already mid-swing, aiming at Kensei's head.

"You dumbass!" she howled. "How dare you ask a girl that!" She mercilessly swatted him with her sandal from every possible angle, and he barely had time to protect his head from the blows.

"But she's _my_ girl, you monkey!" Kensei screamed. "Get offa me!" Shinji choked again, this time on laughter, and Mashiro carefully backed away, at a loss of how to help.

"Yeah, but that don't mean it's okay to ask 'er somethin' like that in fronta us, ya know," Hiyori heaved, letting her arm fall to the side as she stayed precariously perched on his knees in a low crouch.

"And why the hell not?" he countered as he recovered and pushed the frightening sandal-wielder from his lap.

Hiyori glanced at Mashiro, whom was blushing gracefully. "'Cause, you just don't," she said unhelpfully as she stood defiantly in front of the much larger man.

"It's old news by now, anyway," Lisa called out from somewhere unseen. "Just let it go, Ape Woman."

"Who're you callin' an ape, you old hag!" Hiyori shouted back, but no one could be prevailed upon to listen.

"Where the hell have _you_ been, you oaf? Everyone knows Mashiro is pregnant. Sorry, Mashiro. You suck at keeping secrets," Lisa apologized half-heartedly, still tucked away conveniently in her hiding spot.

"So do you, Lisa-chan!" Mashiro shouted back, stomping her foot hard on the floor, but there was a distinct lack of animosity in her words. She caught Kensei's glance as she returned her attention to him.

He suddenly felt lightheaded. He needed to sit down – oh, yeah. Damn.

"You figured it out sooner than I thought you would," Mashiro said playfully as she sat down on the arm of his chair. "I thought for sure Shinji would burst and tell you if you didn't figure it out soon."

Kensei was swooning. "Et tu, Shinji?" All he got in reply was that sly grin. "You," he continued as he pulled Mashiro into his lap, "are in trouble. Big trouble." She giggled. "Just as soon as the room stops spinning." Holding her in his arms, he fought the urge to void his stomach of its bento contents but was tempted by the notion, should it offer reprieve from this suddenly surreal world. Wasting a perfectly good meal was above him, however; swallowing hard, he came to his feet, easily supporting the weight of the woman carrying his child (the thought was still difficult to digest...).

As he walked away, Shinji called after him. "I trust your retribution will be swift?"

"I can't even be mad right now," he called back, "but sleep with one eye open for a while, in case I think of something fittingly horrendous."

As Mashiro chattered excitedly about giving the good news to his family, and Kensei attempted to morph the chattering into far more appealing sounds, the others were below, staring dumbly at Hiyori.

"You've gone soft," Shinji snorted. "Protectin' Mashiro like that."

Love chuckled. "Not too long ago, you ran screaming from the _thought,_ and now it's really happening. Not like you at all to just take it."

Hiyori cracked her neck and drew in a sharp breath through her nose. "I ain't gone soft. And 'sides, if it turns out anything like Kensei, I can train it to help me take you down, Shinji."

"Believe what you gotta," he shrugged. "Jus' remember, that thing's half-Mashiro, no matter how you slice it. _Not even Kensei is prepared for that._" Reclining in his chair, he commented to no one in particular, "That guy's really got a pair."

"This might really change things for us all," Hachi said, breaking his silent observation. "I'm always pleased to see our family growing, but now Kensei and Mashiro are starting a family of their own. It's both a happy and sad occasion."

Rose hesitated to speak his mind, but as one of the more openly sentimental of the group, he knew he'd have to be the one to say anything more on the subject. "I realize it's probably naive of me, but I'd like to believe we'll always be a family. We've come this far together, we've decided to stay together beyond now, and I don't see why they wouldn't still be a part of us."

"They always will be," Lisa commented, her heart sinking even as she spoke. "Even if they take a different path in the future, they're always family."

"The li'l hellion not excluded," Shinji chimed in. "Have any of you thought about what it's gonna look like?"

"Not hard to imagine," Lisa commented. "Silver or green hair, brown eyes –."

"No, I mean, what if it pops out with a mask?" Shinji laughed.

"I'll kill it," Hiyori shouted, and all was right in the Vizards' world again.


	31. Here Comes the End Again

A/N: T^T FINALLY! So sorry, y'all, but FF has been a beast this week. I've been trying since last Thursday to post this. My apologies, but it really was out of my hands.

Seriously, I could write on this story forever, but it's time to put it to rest. This is the official last chapter, and the next one (I'll post it tomorrow) is kind of a bonus. So, this chapter is a little, um, strange... and sort of rushed, just snapshots basically, but I hope you enjoy, nonetheless! Shout outs go to piper, CaribbeanPrincess07, Oicherealtai, Ayase Reincarnated, Olciam3, dream-racer-yukino, Mister Unsmiley, and also to anyone I may have missed in the veritable flood of alert emails over the last two weeks. Also, I can't emphasize enough my love and appreciation to all my readers out there! Thanks so much for the support! *heart*

* * *

Mashiro insisted upon 'Western-style,' which meant absolutely nothing to Chiyoko and Kayo, but they obliged her and the strange requests she made for the wedding. Largely, she didn't want to wear that traditional 'stupid hat thing.' They'd bend over backward, nay, commit _seppuku_, to keep happy the woman carrying the potential Muguruma heir.

Emi was on her break between terms at the Academy, and she was all too happy to fawn over Onee-san. The girl spent an inordinate amount of time with Mashiro, talking to the baby bump, singing, reading, and generally being annoying to Kensei. She deliberated the finer points of wedding planning with Mashiro, agreeing that white poppies would be appropriate and arguing that she should wear black instead of traditional wedding colors like white or red.

Kensei couldn't be more removed from the process, opting to hide out as much as possible at the Ninth Division, drinking in the middle of the day with Shuuhei as the kid cried into his sake over some Rangiku chick dumping him and another Momo girl rejecting him. 'What about that Hisoka girl?' Kensei suggested one day, and Shuuhei, confused, looked to the girl sitting quietly at her desk as she typeset Ukitake's latest installment of _Sougyo no Okotowari_. Yeah, what about _her?_

Somehow predictably, Kazuma was the most emotional over the whole affair. Being hit with the news of both a wedding and a grandchild at the same time (in the same breath; Kensei managed to mumble it out as quickly as possible, lest reality sink in and panic take over) was just... well, it made him so damn _happy_. Obnoxiously happy. 'Well, he wouldn't be Dad if he weren't blubbering over it,' Kayo said, which gave Kensei yet another reason to stay as far away as possible from the whole business.

The day came, and so did the other Vizards, and the biggest party East Rukongai had seen in centuries promptly erupted in the twelfth district. Emi quite vocally rejoiced that Shuuhei and Hisoka came together, though Hisoka had to embarrassedly clarify that they'd both been invited and weren't 'together.' Lisa sneaked sake to Isao, and Hiyori arm-wrestled with Masa for an hour. Even Kazuma and Chiyoko cut loose and had fun with the youngsters, finding themselves quite tipsy and strangely enjoying dancing awkwardly to the foreign music from the Living World.

No one remembered anything the next day; good thing Lisa took plenty of embarrassing and incriminating photos.

* * *

Kensei's retribution, while not swift, was certainly fittingly horrendous.

It took him three months to come up with the most evil scheme he had ever conceived, and by that time, Shinji had forgotten all about the just deserts due him. While it started as a 'I promised I'd get you back for that' prank, it turned into the greatest memory they could possibly share of their final days in the Living World.

Everyone was in on it; that is to say, everyone but Shinji, of course, and Hiyori. No one could say for sure how they managed to pull it off, but it involved some carefully-disguised drugs, a fair amount of sake, and Lisa's camera.

Not only did Shinji and Hiyori wake up together in his futon, half-naked and with no memory of the night before, but they discovered the warehouse was wallpapered with photos of them in compromising positions.

"I took the liberty of giving a copy to Kisuke," Kensei provided to the very hung-over Shinji.

Shinji declared open war. Hiyori didn't speak to anyone for three days.

* * *

Breaking up is hard to do.

Not that they'd particularly cared for the festering stinkhole of a warehouse, but it was a place they'd called home for a while. No one liked to leave home for good. Love affair with the Living World aside, they were happy to kiss convenience store food goodbye, but not so much this stupid warehouse. Though nothing like the exodus that rocked their world a century ago, leaving behind these memories was almost as difficult as it was in the past.

Fortunately, they'd had enough notice to get their affairs in order. Not that they necessarily had any affairs, but Ukitake showed the utmost forethought in sending word a month ahead that their new home would be ready to receive them. Not that they were necessarily in any hurry to move on, but they'd mutually decided this path; no need to linger in the past.

Looking around half mournfully at everyone assembled, Shinji raised the door one final time. "Kisuke should be by later to make sure everything here is, ah... uh, forget it. Everyone ready?" He observed a few head nods before glancing at the pile of discarded gigai in the corner. Man, that was creepy.

Taking only the few things that held any meaning to them, they poured out onto the sidewalk in front of the warehouse and listened as the door closed, forever closing this very long chapter in their lives.

No one looked back.

* * *

"Mashiro, are you sure you're okay? It's really hot out here, and we still have a while to go," Rose asked as he leaned down beside the very tiny and very round Vizard.

"Don't worry about me," she said. "Feels good to get out and stretch my legs."

Kensei rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you'll be bitchin' to me later about how much your feet and back ache."

The primary things Mashiro hated about pregnancy were that she couldn't kick him for saying that and that she couldn't solicit a piggy-back ride.

Concern flashed over Lisa's face. "Hey guys, don't we normally have to haul ass through the Dangai? What about Mashiro? She can't run."

"I can run," Mashiro supplied. "I think. Or maybe just waddle. But really, I'll be fine!"

Shinji barked out a laugh. "You're gonna have to waddle really fast!"

Love was so amused by the image of Mashiro waddling through the Dangai that he snickered all the way to Urahara Shop.

* * *

"Ah, there are my two lovebirds!" Urahara cooed as he waved his fan in front of him. What an unseasonably hot June day! Mashiro beamed at him as she clung to Kensei's arm but was affronted when Urahara stepped past them and put his arms around Shinji and Hiyori. A scuffle followed, including ball-shots and flying sandals, but when the dust settled, Urahara adjusted his hat and addressed the less volatile members of the group.

"Mashiro-chan, looking absolutely beautiful!" Her smile returned. "How is married life?"

Mashiro began to chatter animatedly as Kensei only groaned. Rose and Love caught sight of the framed photo on the wall of Shinji and Hiyori drunkenly cuddling, and the scuffle began anew, this time with shattered glass flying. Kensei put a stop to it by yelling obscenities as he shielded Mashiro with his large frame. At that moment, he realized he could answer Urahara: married life was great. It was absolutely fucking awesome.

Not that he'd ever really admit it to anyone.

"How are we going to get Mashiro down that ladder?" Hachi called out from the hallway just then. It seemed no one had thought of the logistical nightmare of moving around a pregnant woman until today.

"I can use reishi, Hachi, no problem... right?" She looked to Urahara, who was trying to find his hat after the most recent fray.

Considering her words, he realized he didn't really know the answer. Having never been a pregnant shinigami himself, and having never actually studied them, he hazarded a guess. "Sure, why not?" The answer satisfied her, but Kensei was wary. She was stupid enough to try anything, regardless of the consequences.

"Be careful, Mashiro. If you can't do it –."

"Don't worry, stupid Kensei. I'll hold my breath this time." She smiled, wondering if he'd get the reference, and he was taken aback, surprised that she even remembered such a thing. If telling her not to be stupid was like telling her not to breathe, he honestly hoped she didn't hold her breath all the time, no matter how asinine she could be from time to time. That's what made her _his_ Mashiro.

"Are you guys ready?" Urahara asked as he took his cane in hand. The tension and anxiety in the room were palpable, and a steady current of excitement underscored the shared sentiment. It was time; a new era was beginning. Kensei held tightly to Mashiro's hand. No matter what awaited them, at least they were together. "Off we go, then!"

* * *

.

..

...

..

.

"Hey Mashiro, waddle faster!"

"I'm waddling as fast as I can, stupid Kensei!"

~owari~


	32. Upside Down

A/N: Happy birthday, Mashiro-chan! Here I answer two of the questions bugging me throughout this story... see ya at the end for more. :D

* * *

**So, what IS with the scarf and goggles?**

"Oi, Mashiro," Kensei called out as he entered their bedroom. She was taking off her goggles and placing them on the dresser, next to her already-discarded scarf. Oh yeah, he'd been meaning to ask about that... She turned and gave him a surprised look, humming in response to his summons. "Get suited up. We're being called for."

With a stamp of her foot, Mashiro whined pathetically. "But I just took off my goggles!" As though complaining would get her out of a command from the Head Captain.

"Mashiro," Kensei warned, but he was cut off.

"MY GOGGLES, KENSEI," she forced out through gritted teeth. Her tiny face was scrunched up in as stern a look as she could muster, pouty lips pursed tightly. She pointed severely at the article in question to illustrate her point.

Laughing, he closed the distance between them and, cupping a hand behind her head, kissed the lines from her forehead. Sighing in resignation, her resolve crumpled her body as she immediately began discarding her sleeping clothes in exchange for her clingy body suit. As she began tying her scarf back in place, Kensei finally asked the question burning in his mind.

"By the way, why do you take your scarf and goggles off last?"

Taking up her goggles to set them back in place, she glanced at his reflection in the mirror as she thought.

"Well," she began seriously, "I don't take them off 'til the day's over, 'cause the goggles remind me to look at my actions through the eyes of others. I know I don't always behave appropriately, but it's a reminder to consider my actions before making them. And," she turned and headed to the door, "the scarf, like your hands around my neck when I do something stupid, is an ever-present reminder that there are consequences for my actions."

She walked out of the room without looking at him, but he followed close behind. Clearly taken aback, he was unable to respond until they'd made it out their front door.

"Really?" He never realized she thought so deeply about symbolism.

"No, stupid Kensei. But it sounded good, right?"

* * *

**Who's the lucky new teacher?**

Mashiro stood in front of the class, staring blankly at the expectant faces before her. Some snickered and quietly questioned her competence among themselves. She wasn't quite sure how everyone had suckered her into this.

"You're a mom now; you gotta look out for yer little one. What if somethin' happened to both you and Kensei?" Shinji had put to her, and his was the most logical input, she supposed. Kensei's argument had been along the same lines, though far more insistent, but more than that, he'd actually spent the time to convince her she'd be a great teacher. She argued that he, in fact, would be the better Hakuda instructor, and while he agreed, he proved he had the utmost faith in her capabilities.

But standing here, with all those eyes watching her, waiting for something from her, Kensei's faith wasn't enough to keep her convinced. She looked at the Hakuda instructor's manual in her hand that another teacher had so thoughtfully given her. "Just be Mashiro," Kensei's voice echoed in her head.

Tossing the manual over her shoulder, she climbed up on her desk and looked at the crowd who were now giving her incredulous looks. "You and... you," she singled out two post-graduate Vizard-hopefuls randomly. They came forward, and Mashiro waved her hands out, telling the others to back away. The students stared at her, waiting for further instruction.

"Reeeeaaady? FIGHT!"

It was lost on everyone that their instructor was miming the actions of a seriously intense video gamer the whole time. More disturbing than her spasmodic episodes and humming during the sparring were her declarations of "Finish him!" and "Flawless victory!"

* * *

A/N cont.: Lots of love to everyone who's read, reviewed, faved, and added alerts to this story (and to me because of this story). I appreciate you guys sticking by me and encouraging me the whole time! Stick around, because even though this one's over, I've got some more KenMashi in the works. This pairing needs more love, so help me give it. :D


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